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?"

Money Matters

First of all, let me say right off the bat, that I'm no financial genius. I was always good at math, but put a dollar-sign in front of a number, and start getting all "interest this" and "compound yearly amortized" that, I go into dumb-dumb land.

So...

For a while now I've been thinking that it would be a good idea to consolidate my debt. I've got a student loan, a line of credit and I've been carrying a fairly large balance on my VISA card (which I've switched to a low-interest card in the past year). And then, out of the blue, my bank calls me and asks if I'd be interested in getting a low-interest loan to consolidate my debt. Great timing!

So I spoke to a rep about it, and we discussed options. They offered a loan at 8% interest, which is lower than my student loan (~10%), LoC (8.5%) and card (10.5%). Over 4 years, the monthly payments would be only slightly lower than what I pay on the combined debt now. Except that, in an attempt to more aggressively reduce the balance on my VISA card, I've set up my bank account so that on each bi-weekly pay day, an extra $100 gets paid to my VISA account, over and above the minimum payment. So, if I were to pay off the card with the consolidation loan, I would have that $200 a month back in my pocket.

Now this seems like a no-brainer to me, but I told them I wanted a little while to consider it. There are a few things on my mind:

1) I have a natural distrust of the big banks. Not to the extent that I stuff money under my mattress. I'm not that paranoid. (Besides, that's the first place they'd look.) But I do question their motives. (These are the people who charge us outrageous service charges for letting us access our own money.) What's in it for them? Do they stand to make more money off me in the long run with constant monthly payments over four years? After all, if I keep paying off my VISA balance, the payments will get smaller and smaller. Or are they simply being proactive in a competitive financial services sector? Trying to maintain me as a continued customer for their products?

2) Should I try to talk them into giving me a better interest rate? Can I do that? I think I may want a longer term: five years instead of four years, meaning somewhat lower monthly payments, but longer to pay it off.

3) What's better, a fixed rate loan, or a variable rate loan. If I go with a variable rate, as I understand it, are interest rates expected to go up or down significantly in the forseeable future? Maybe a fixed rate is safer?

4) I probably should check out some of the other banks to see if they have a better offer, no? If I can get better terms from them, I should go with them, right? Or can I use that to haggle with my bank? "Hey, BMO has a 7% loan. Can you meet that, ya bastards?" I mean, minus the "ya bastards" part.

If any of you loyal readers have been down this road yourself, or have any advice to share, I would appreciate your comments. Thanks.

Who Ya Gonna Call?

If you're like me, sometimes you find yourself asking "Where can I get a Bat-Man outfit", or "I sure could use a dehydrated boulder right about now", or "Jeez, I wish I had a giant rubber band, especially one I could use to trip roadrunners."

Well, there's only one place to get all those things and more: ACME, of course! And now, these amazing items are only a click away, thanks to The Illustrated Catalog Of ACME Products.

Why wait?

Pam Pam

This actually looks like it might be fun. I have to admit, I admire Pamela's ability to send up her own image. "V.I.P." was a perfect vehicle for her. It weren't Emmy material, but it was right for her. C'mon, let's have a show of handsóhow many of you are closet "V.I.P." fans?

And she's really quite funny, isn't she. I bet she'd be a fun date. Maybe it's time I started returning her calls.

Just arrived in from the coast...

Just got back yesterday from a week's vacation in California. Had a great time. It was a very nice mix of travel and chill. Stayed at my sister's place, just off the strand in Hermosa Beach. (See another Strand cam here. We ate breakfast at this restaurant before I caught my flight out.)

We travelled down to Mexico, a beautiful drive down the west coast of the Baja peninsula to Ensenada, a lovely port city roughly an hour south of Tijuana (yes, on "The Road To Ensenada"). About a 5-hour trip from LA.

Visited world-famous Hussongs Cantina, "Birthplace of the Margarita". Stopped briefly in Rosarito on the way back, and that evening we stayed at the home of my sister's friends in San Diego, on Coronado Island, where there are a few military bases.

Later in the week, we drove to Las Vegas for a quick overnight visit. It's about a 4-hour drive from LA. I had never been to Sin City and had never been in a desert before either. Both were worth seeing for completely different reasons. Saw aliens. Saw Elvis. More on that later.

The rest of the time I explored around the South Bay areaóHermosa Beach, Manhattan Beach, Redondo Beachóenjoying time by the ocean, at the piers and on the plazas. Temperatures were in the low-70s during the day, a little chillier at night. Jacket weather, but still nice. There's a wonderful small-town, beach community vibe down there. A couple of times while I was walking around, strangers on the sidewalk actually said "hi" to me. I love it there. It's the kind of place where people sit on their patios or rooftops, pour themselves a margarita (invented in Hussongs, don't you know) and watch the sun set over the pacific.

Welcomed back with a nasty snow storm last night. Was driving back from the airport with my friend Derek, the Air Canada pilot (he and his wife Sheri were in town, and his flight got in at the same time as mine, so we arranged to drive in from the airport together. He keeps a car there for lay-overs). We started driving down the 427. Saw 2 or 3 accidents along the way, and then the SUV directly in front of us started swerving, spun completely around and started sliding for the guardrail. It hit the guardrail pretty hard and then started rebounding back towards us! Derek managed to maneuver around it and kept us out of harm's way. It pays to drive with a pilot.

I wanted back on the plane. It was safer.

I'll post some pictures when I get them developed, but for now here are a few snapshots in words:

Welcome to Mexico: We had barely left Ensenada, when we found ourselves in a roadblock "manned" by a squad of federales, dressed in green army uniforms and toting M-16s. I say "manned" in quotation marks, because none of them looked older than 16. One of them had a screwdriver and he was poking through the empty trunk of the car stopped in front of us. Our turn came and they asked my sister to get out and open her trunk. It was packed to the brim with stuff, not contraband, just stuff she keeps in there. The first soldier calls another guy over to come have a look, gesturing toward the fully laden cargo hold as if to say "look at all this junk." The second armed teenager raises his eyebrows, looks at my sister as if to say "how can you keep so much stuff in your trunk?", and waves us on our way.

Definition of surreal: Driving across the Mojave desert on American Thanksgiving Day listening to "The countdown of the top 40 Christmas songs of all time" on one of the few available radio stations! "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas..." Uh, maybe somewhere, Bing, but not here.

"It never rains in Southern California...": ...but on my last night there, Friday night, it poured. Man, it poured. Quite an event I'm told. I asked my sister, who's lived there for 30 years, when was the last time it rained like that, and she couldn't remember. The late-í80s possibly. It was on all the newscasts. Weird.

And now, it's back to Normal. But I feel a bit more refreshed and rested. And only three weeks before I go home for xmas!

The Horse Rides Again

There are some things in life that you just can't pass up. Free beer? Sure! Invitation to the Playboy Mansion? Thanks! Complimentary peanuts? Well, I'm allergic and they could kill me... but, okay!*

So it was that I went to see Neil Young & Crazy Horse last night at the ACC, with Lucinda Williams as the opening act. Bought two tickets when they went on sale. At that time, I didn't even know that Lucinda was opening. Just can't pass up a chance to see Neil, especially with the Horse. There are lots of artists that I love and worship, but somehow Neil Young's music has always had a special pull on me, ever since I was 14 and I first slipped under my Koss headphones in "my corner" of my parent's rec room and dropped the needle on the copy of the Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere LP I had borrowed from my pal Mumbley.

*pop* *hiss* *crackle* ... jahd-daa daa daa daa, daa daa daa dow da... I wanna live with a cinnamon girl/ I can be happy the rest of my life with a cinnamon girl/ A dreamer of pictures, I run in the night/ You see us together chasing the moonlight, my cinnamon girl...

Raw, simple, direct, poetic, vivid, enthralling ... drawn straight in, unfiltered. Aaaahhhh, this is the shit. YESSS!

I had also borrowed After The Gold Rush and Harvest from Mumbley and from my friend Tony, Rust Never Sleeps and Live Rust.

Deeeee-vohhhh-teeeeeeeeeeee!!!!

My fate was sealed when I came home late one Friday night after being out partying with my friends, went to the kitchen to prepare my usual triple-decker peanut butter and jam sandwich with a glass of milk. Mom and Dad were in bedóperhaps asleep, but maybe listeningóand the kitchen was lit only by the dim light above the stove. But that was okay because my pupils were as big as saucers. I could've made that sandwich in the dark, by the glow of the translucent strawberry jam, and caught any errant dollop of PB before it hit the floor. In fact, I wasn't even the least bit hungry, but under such circumstances, where Mom and Dad may have been monitoring the nature of my movements for the telltale signs, usual habits must be re-enacted. The message: Everything is normal.

I went downstairs to the rec room. I forced myself to eat the sandwich. The purple butterflies in my stomach loved it. 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.

I am just a dreamer,
but you are just a dream...

That perfect feeling
when time just slips
Away between us
on our foggy trip...

If I was already a fan, this experience branded me for good. It sewed a Crazy Horse patch on my soul.

So I've never passed up a chance to see Neil. First time was at the Moncton Coliseum in í84 or í85. Just my luck, Neil was deep into his í80s tranformations. The which-neil-will-show-up-on-the-next-album game had begun. Computer music? Rockabilly? He was now in his "gone country" thing, with the Old Ways album, touring with a band called The International Harvesters. I wasn't that big on country music at the time, although I dug his Harvest stuff, of course. But I wanted to see Crazy Horse! I wanted "Like A Hurricane", "Powderfinger", "My My Hey Hey". Well, I didn't get the Crazy Horse experience, but it was my first Neil show, and it was great to see him. The country tunes were all right. "Get Back To The Country", "California Sunset". I appreciate them more now. But he did play some of his classics, like "The Needle And The Damage Done", and he even dusted off a Buffalo Springfield favourite of mine, "Flying On The Ground Is Wrong", played it on his old, beautiful Gretsch.

I finally caught the Crazy Horse experience in í89 or í90, in Detroit on the Ragged Glory tour. It was worth the wait. The full Crazy Horse experience, with the giant amps and microphone stand from the Rust Never Sleeps/Live Rust stage set, and even "Farmer John" wandering around the stage as the band played.

Saw him a few years later at the Fox Theater in Detroit, an amazing solo acoustic concert showcasing his Harvest Moon songs, prior to the album's release. Then a few years later touring with Booker T & The MG's as his backup band, and then again with Crazy Horse in í97, an outdoor show in Barrie, north of Toronto. Great shows all.

So when tickets went on sale for the current tour stop at the Air Canada Centre in Toronto, it was a no-brainer, although I did have some reservations about this show. I had learned that the main set of the concert would be songs from Neil's Greendale album, to be released this fall. I had heard some of the songs being streamed from his web site from a solo show in Dublin, and I was a little underwhelmed. But maybe once they were given the Crazy Horse treatment, it might be a different story. Plus there was a dramatic element to this show, as the stage was also to be shared with a set of the fictional town, populated by actors who dramatized scenes reflecting the songs. Apparently Greendale is Neil's story of three generations living in the town of Greendale, an Anytown in Anywhere, America. A kind of a concept piece. More on this later.

First, though, I had to unload the extra ticket I had bought. I often buy two tickets for a show I want to see, on the assumption that I'll find someone to go with meóand I usually do. But I had left it to the last minute this time, and it was a pretty steep price at $70, so I wasn't very surprised when I had no takers, although there was one person who might have come along, but for a prior commitment.

So I hung outside the ACC before the show and tried to sell my extra ticket, but no luck. It was a sold-out show, but there were many people with extra tickets for sale, and that's not including the professional scalpers. I didn't want to sell it to a scalper, and so I approached many people, but no takers. It's hard to sell just one ticket. Most people were there with one or two other people. And there were a few solo people who might have been potential buyers, but they looked like the type of people that I didn't think I'd want to have next to me at a concert. Just before I gave up, I asked one scalper, and he offered me $20 for it. Fuck that. They don't care about the music, they're just there to make a buck, so I decided if I couldn't sell it to a fan, I'd just swallow the cost. But I should have just bought one ticket. Oh well.

The drag is that the time I spent outside trying to offload the ticket meant that I missed Lucinda Williams, but she'll be back on her own to play a smaller venue.

I got to my seat(s) just as Neil began. The Greendale set was... interesting. Hour and 45 min. Not riveting, but okay. Lots of dramatic elements on stage. A jail cell to stage left. A cabin with a porch on stage right. And behind the band, a large raised stage with an elevator floor and a big screen behind it. For certain songs, people driving prop cut-out cars would pop up, the screen behind them showing filmed footage of highway scenery flying past. For other songs it was a young girl's bedroom, others still a bar with people dancing, etc. The characters mimed the songs that Neil was singing. The Devil made an appearance.

There was a political element to it. Several of Neil's introductions took aim at the Bush administration, and the Patriot Act. At one point the screen displayed a drawing of a Clear Channel billboard that said "Support Our War". An interesting message, since the US portion of the tour is apparently sponsored by Clear Channel.

Neil's microphone stand was the coolest piece of hi-tech mic-standery that I've ever seen. It looked like the Terminator mic stand. An arc of stainless steel with a kind of a gyroscope-type space in the middle that looked like it was possibly housing a camera. It curved up toward him, and he had at least two mics on the end (one for a megaphone effect that he used for one song) and his harmonica, instead of being in the traditional neck holder, was actually fixed to the mic stand! I was thinking that must take some practice, so you don't bust your mouth on it.

The songs themselves were a mixed bag. Most were sort of mid-tempo, blues-y rock numbers, kind of in the "This Notes For You" vein, but sparser. A few sounded quite good, with some nice lead guitar parts from Neil. Frank "Pancho" Sampedro, the rhythm guitarist played a barely audible electric piano throughout the set. There was one solo acoustic number called "Bandit" that was quite good. But mostly, the music was a little uninspiring.

Ben Raynor's review in the Toronto Star pretty much got it right, especially the sense of the storyline (except he missed one encore. Slip out early did you Ben?):

"Later on, we'll dust off a few antiques," [Young] promised at the outset, before the first of numerous actors appeared at stage left, rocking on a front-porch set and pantomining to "Falling From Above" lyrics: "A little love and affection will make the world a better place." And on Greendale went, from that sweet and hippie-ish beginning, somehow threading a cop killing, a jailhouse visit from Satan, a media-triggered heart attack and one comely dancing girl into an overarching message ó delivered with a full-cast onstage dance party ó about the need to preserve nature for future generations. Or something.

After the main set, Neil and the band returned for three encores, all Crazy Horse nuggets, with Sampedro back on guitar. "My My Hey Hey", "Like A Hurricane", "Love To Burn", "Powderfinger" (wooo!) and "Roll Another Number". Seeing them do these songs was almost worth the price. I love "Powderfinger" and, of course, "Like A Hurricane".

Ahhh, but it's great to "smell the horse." Who knows when/if they'll tour again? They're getting up there. Pancho is looking fairly... panchy these days.

So it was a bit of a steep price to pay, but it felt really good to see one of my favourite bands playing some of my favourite songs. That feeling is priceless.


* I'm not really allergic to peanuts.

"Hit your baseball into my yard, and you'll never see it again"

Interesting and often hilarious interview with Tom Waits over at The Onion. Makes me wish there was a portal into that man's head. "Being Tom Waits" would be one hell of an interesting experience.

I love this part:

O: There's a section on your web site about fans who have spotted or encountered you in public. Do you have a problem going out?

TW: I go where I feel like. Funny little story... I drove on a field trip once, to a guitar factory, to show all these little kids how to make guitars. So we're standing there, and I'm looking around, and folks are looking over at me, and I'm just waiting for someone to recognize meóyou know, "Hey, aren't you that music guy? That singer guy?" Nobody. Nothing. We're there for, like, two hours, watching them put the frets on and all that, and I'm waiting and waiting. A week later, I took the same group of kids on a field trip to the dump, and as I pulled up, don't ask me how, but my truck was surrounded by people that wanted an autograph. It was a dump, for Christ's sake. I guess everybody knows me at the dump.

It's The Young Man From Scene 153

Was re-watching Almost Famous tonight on TV. There's a scene near the end, where our hero, the young, rookie Rolling Stone writer William Miller, is on the phone being consoled by his mentor, legendary rock journalist Lester Bangs (Philip Seymour Hoffman), after young William's cover story on the band Stillwater falls apart when the band denies everything about the story, and the magazine rejects the piece as being fraudulent. Bangs is giving William his sage advice, and... aw hell, I'll just let the script tell the story. But check out the little nugget of truth at the end. I love that.
(script exerpt courtesy of script-o-rama.com)

153 INT. BIG OFFICE -- NIGHT 153

William sits in the "big" office. It's a small white tank.
After all the sound and fury, there is only the hum of a
large electric typewriter. His research, transcripts and
some band photos sit nearby. He takes a bite of a candy bar, a sip of coffee. He looks at the phone.

INT. LESTER BANGS' BEDROOM -- NIGHT

Crazy jazz is playing. Lester Bangs on the phone.

LESTER BANGS
Aw, man. You made friends with them!
See, friendship is the booze they feed
you. They want you to get drunk on
feeling like you belong.

INTERCUT:

INT. ROLLING STONE -- NIGHT

William in the empty Rolling Stone office.

WILLIAM
(ruefully)
Well, it was fun.

LESTER BANGS
They make you feel cool. And hey. I
met you. You are not "cool."

WILLIAM
I know. Even when I thought I was, I
knew I wasn't.

LESTER BANGS
That's because we are uncool! And
while women will always be a problem for
guys like us, most of the great art in
the world is about that very problem.
Good-looking people have no spine!
Their art never lasts! They get the
girls, but we're smarter.

WILLIAM
I can really see that now.

LESTER BANGS
Yeah, great art is about conflict and
pain and guilt and longing and love
disguised as sex, and sex disguised as
love... and let's face it, you got a
big head start.

WILLIAM
I'm glad you were home.

LESTER BANGS
I'm always home! I'm uncool!

WILLIAM
Me too!

LESTER BANGS
(leveling)
The only true currency in this bankrupt
world if what we share with someone
else when we're uncool.

Downie-Loading

Now this is how it should be done. Tragically Hip frontman Gord Downie just released his second solo CD Battle Of The Nudes and has been playing a bunch of local shows in advance of his summer tour. Now he's releasing recordings of those concerts, downloadable from his web site. And he'll be doing that for every show on the tour.

I'll let the announcement from his email update list give the details:

Have you ever wanted a copy of the live show you attended? On this summer tour Gord will make available each and every show from the tour. Completely live, no re-mixing, no out-takes!

The first two shows of Gord Downie and The Country of Miracles are now for sale as digital downloads. Each and every show is just $10 (Canadian funds). All songs are in MP3 format (128 kbps). Down the road future shows should be available within 72 hours so check back often to get the show you want.

Go here to download the shows.

I was at the Lee's Palace show for NxNE, so I'll probably download that one.

Of course, loyal jimbuck2 reader Deano was ahead of the curve on this one, having had a similar set up with a club in San Fran several years ago, which formed the basis for his unfortunately short-lived record label Unicycle Records. You're a pioneer Deano.

Is That A Vent?

I would like to thank the lady in front of me in the supermarket express lane tonight for her sterling math skills. The sign says 1-to-8 items. By my count you had 13. Now, I think it's okay to have 9 or 10 items. I'm not that anal. But 13? That's more than 50% over the limit. Oh, and thank you for placing the bar on the conveyer belt to separate my three items from yours. We wouldn't want you to be mistaken for having 16 itemsóthat would be 100% over the limit, instead of the mere 50% over that you had already achieved.

IT'S CALLED AN EXPRESS LANE FOR A REASON LADY!! THANKS TO YOUR SELFISHNESS I MISSED MY DAMN BUS AND HAD TO WAIT 15 MINUTES FOR THE NEXT ONE!

*deep breath*

okay, I feel better now.