Things will be quiet around here for a while. I'm moving this weekend. I have tomorrow and Friday off. Tomorrow will be the main packing day (though I've started some things already), Friday I'm renting a van, and I'll be moving some stuff on my ownósmall, one-person stuff. My new place isn't very far away from my present abode--probably a 5-10 minute drive--so I don't care if it takes several trips.
Then Saturday I'm renting a different van (they're in short supply this weekend), and with some help from friends and my brother, I'll move the heavier, two-person stuff: bed, couch, etc. Should go all right I think.
My high-speed will be down from Friday until probably sometime later next week. So talk amongst yerselves. I'll even give you a topic: The Holy Roman Empire was neither holy nor Roman. Discuss.
Next time you hear from me I'll be in my new digs! Woo!
And tonight, will I be packing and fretting and planning? HELL NO! I'm going to the Horseshoe to see Neko Case! Hee hee!
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
Monday, April 26, 2004
Word
Word of the Day for Monday April 26, 2004
lucubration \loo-kyoo-BRAY-shun; loo-kuh-\, noun:
1. The act of studying by candlelight; nocturnal study;
meditation.
2. That which is composed by night; that which is produced by
meditation in retirement; hence (loosely) any literary
composition.
A point of information for those with time on their hands:
if you were to read 135 books a day, every day, for a year,
you wouldn't finish all the books published annually in the
United States. Now add to this figure, which is upward of
50,000, the 100 or so literary magazines; the scholarly,
political and scientific journals (there are 142 devoted to
sociology alone), as well as the glossy magazines, of which
bigger and shinier versions are now spawning, and you'll
appreciate the amount of lucubration that finds its way
into print.
--Arthur Krystal, "On Writing: Let There Be Less," [1]New
York Times, March 26, 1989
One of his characters is given to lucubration. "Things die
on us," he reflects as he lies in bed, "we die on each
other, we die of ourselves."
--"Books of The Times," [2]New York Times, February 7, 1981
Naturally, these fictions ran the risk of tumbling down the
formalist hill and ending up at the bottom without readers
-- except the heroic students of Roland Barthes or Umberto
Eco, professors whose lucubrations were much more
interesting than the books about which they theorized.
--[3]Mario Vargas Llosa, "Thugs Who Know Their Greek,"
[4]New York Times, September 7, 1986
Lucubration comes from Latin lucubratus, past participle of
lucubrare, "to work by night, composed at night (as by
candlelight)," ultimately connected with lux, "light." Hence
it is related to lucent, "shining, bright," and lucid,
"clear." The verb form is lucubrate.
lucubration \loo-kyoo-BRAY-shun; loo-kuh-\, noun:
1. The act of studying by candlelight; nocturnal study;
meditation.
2. That which is composed by night; that which is produced by
meditation in retirement; hence (loosely) any literary
composition.
A point of information for those with time on their hands:
if you were to read 135 books a day, every day, for a year,
you wouldn't finish all the books published annually in the
United States. Now add to this figure, which is upward of
50,000, the 100 or so literary magazines; the scholarly,
political and scientific journals (there are 142 devoted to
sociology alone), as well as the glossy magazines, of which
bigger and shinier versions are now spawning, and you'll
appreciate the amount of lucubration that finds its way
into print.
--Arthur Krystal, "On Writing: Let There Be Less," [1]New
York Times, March 26, 1989
One of his characters is given to lucubration. "Things die
on us," he reflects as he lies in bed, "we die on each
other, we die of ourselves."
--"Books of The Times," [2]New York Times, February 7, 1981
Naturally, these fictions ran the risk of tumbling down the
formalist hill and ending up at the bottom without readers
-- except the heroic students of Roland Barthes or Umberto
Eco, professors whose lucubrations were much more
interesting than the books about which they theorized.
--[3]Mario Vargas Llosa, "Thugs Who Know Their Greek,"
[4]New York Times, September 7, 1986
Lucubration comes from Latin lucubratus, past participle of
lucubrare, "to work by night, composed at night (as by
candlelight)," ultimately connected with lux, "light." Hence
it is related to lucent, "shining, bright," and lucid,
"clear." The verb form is lucubrate.
Sunday, April 25, 2004
Glenn, Live It
Faithful readers may recall this blog entry from almost exactly two years ago, from when I saw Glenn Tilbrook play at the Horseshoe. It was a fantastic experience, especially with the "walkabout" we took outside.
Just in case you thought I shittiní ya, it seems the blessed event was actually captured on film.
The scene appears toward the end of this trailer for the upcoming Glenn movie. [large 5.4mb video file - those without highspeed proceed with caution...and patience]
Cool or what?
We got to the end of the block, just past the Bamboo and before the Black Swan, hung a left through a parking lot, where Tilbrook finished "Goodbye Girl" and started the Squeeze classic "Pulling Mussels From The Shell", to wild applause. We then turned west and the merry music mob started down the small one-way street that runs behind the Horsehoe ñ more like an alley, almost ñ Tilbrook still walking backwards as he sang and played... and we all sang along, our voices slapping off of the valley of apartment buildings and clubs ... "behind the chalet, my holiday's complete, and I feel like William Tell, Maid Marian on her tip-toed feet, pulling mussels from a shell..."
And that's when we notice the police car approaching from the opposite direction.
As it draws near, Tilbrook, still singing, approaches the driver's side window as the merry mob flows on either side of the car, like an amoeba around a foreign particle. The cop rolls down the window... and he's singing the song!! He knows the words! Tilbrook sits up on the hood of the cop car, leaning back to look at the cop while he sings, the cop turns on the flashing lights, and we all finish the song together, bathed in the red and blue, and the warm glow of that "this-is-just-too-cool-to-be-real" feeling. We all break into a huge cheer, thank the officer, and file back in through the rear entrance of the Horseshoe.
Just in case you thought I shittiní ya, it seems the blessed event was actually captured on film.
The scene appears toward the end of this trailer for the upcoming Glenn movie. [large 5.4mb video file - those without highspeed proceed with caution...and patience]
Cool or what?
Sunday, April 18, 2004
The Wild, The Innocent, And The Queen Street Shuffle
Seems I'm becoming something of a fixture on the stage at The Horseshoe. I think I may have to ask for my own dressing room and parking space.
I kid, of course. But this past Thursday night, I played the Horseshoe again; the second time in less than a month. My friend Boag (who faithful readers will remember from the St. Paddy's Day Massacre (In Three-part Harmony) blog entry, had organized a Bruce Springsteen tribute night at The 'Shoe and asked me and our campadre Tim to once again back him up on guitar. Proceeds were to benefit a Parkdale outreach centre, St. Francis Table. So we practiced two songs: ìThe Feverî and ìRed Headed Womanî. I played lead guitar. Tim played acoustic rhythm.
It was billed as "The Wild, the Innocent, and the Queen Street Shuffle", and it turned out to be a very good night. As always, there were a few last-minute snafus or near-snafus. Just as I was leaving work, I got an email from Boag saying he'd decided that he'd start the show himself, and did I know any of these songs well enough to back him up: "Born To Run", "Backstreets", "Racing In The Streets", "Growin' Up", and one other I can't recall. I figured the only one I could do adequately on short notice was "Growin' Up", so when I got home, I ran through it a bit on my acoustic, and figured it out.
When I got to the 'Shoe, I met up with Boag, and we went across the street to Steve's Music to rent the drum kit, guitar amp and other accoutrements for the stage. (Later on, it was discovered that the drum kit was missing a hi-hat stand, resulting in a mad pre-show scramble by Jay Clark Reid of Jay Clark & The Jones, who heroically raced in their van out to Parkdale to get a replacement.) Had a bit of a problem finding a cab so we could transport the gear, but after two bailed on us, we found one guy that begrudgingly ferried us and the gear around the corner. Back at the 'Shoe, we huddled with Tim and ran through our two songs just to refresh our memories and do a little last-minute fine-tuning. I ran through "Growin' Up" with Boag, and it seemed to be all right. Then it was just a matter of waiting for show time.
I was definitely harbouring a few butterflies in my stomach, but I wasn't quite as nervous as I was before the St. Patrick's Day show, mostly because I felt I knew these songs better, thanks to the rehearsal we'd had the previous Sunday. (By the way, ìThe Feverî is a tricky little song, if you've ever tried to learn it. Not that the chords are difficult, but the way Bruce does it, there are sections that seem to straddle a line between a verse and a bridge, and sections that share the same lyrics as the first verse, but aren't structurally the same as the verse, just slightly different. Sneaky.)
When 10pm rolled around, Boag took to the stage and said a few words about St. Francis Table and ran through the line-up for the evening. Then I joined him and strapped on Tim's acoustic for "Growin' Up". I eschewed the picking pattern that Bruce does, and some of the finer points of his guitar playing on the song, in favour of a simpler approach that relied more on vigorous, rhythmic strumming. Keep it simple. It seemed to go pretty well. Good song to start the night with. And it was good for me to get up there early and get my feet wet, so to speak. Let loose some of those butterflies. For the next hour or so I just sat back and enjoyed the show. And it was a very good show, with all-round enjoyable performances; some absolutely stellar.
Dan Kershaw - I Wish I†Were Blind, Bobby Jean
(Our friend) Heather Morgan & The Company Of Men - Dancing In The Dark
Michelle Rumball - Across The Border
John Borra & Colleen Hodgson - 10th Ave Freezout,†Because The Night, Dead Man Walking (Colleen vocals)
Tim Armour - Nebraska
Cindy Archer & Co. - Dry Lightning
Pete Elkas and band - Darkness On The Edge Of Town, Streets Of Fire/Hungry Heart
Paul Emery & The Dickens - Prove It All Night
Jonah Ward & Tina Martinez - State Trooper
Not to mention the one and only Ron Sexsmith, who graced us with three or four songs, including "I Wanna Marry You" and "Factory".
As for our time on stage--under the name Boag And His Band And Street Choir--it went really well, helped in no small part by Don Kerr sitting in with us on drums, and Kenny Yoshioka ("The Japanese Torpedo") from Jay Clark & The Jones joining in on harmonica. It was very cool to play with Don, as I'd admired his playing for quite some time, with Ron Sexsmith and with The Rheostatics. Boag really let go on "The Fever", throwing himself into it, body and soul, and everyone seemed to be diggin' it, so he came over to me during my solo and yelled to stretch it out longer and keep it going. Felt pretty good. And "Red Headed Woman" went pretty well too. We had rehearsed it as sort of a rockabilly version, using Elvis' "That's Alright Mama" as a template, which is not that far removed from Bruce's solo acoustic version (it appears on the MTV XXPlugged album). But with the drums and harp and the energy on the stage, it seemed to emerge more like something from Dylan's Highway 61 Revisited (think Tombstone Blues). Perhaps not surprising since I had envisioned my role as more of a Mike Bloomfield/Robbie Robertson part. I'm afraid the fancy James Burton stuff just ain't my forte. I didn't seem to be hitting the notes as solidly as I wanted to during my solos, but people told me afterwards that it sounded all right. I guess there's something to be said for the transfer of energy over the accuracy of picking.
So it was a very satisfying night. And we raised about $300 for St. Francis Table.
Here's a pic from my friend Larry's photo-phone. Poor quality, I'm afraid.
L-R: Boag, a barely visible Don Kerr, unknown mic stand,
me, torso and legs of the Japanese Torpedo
I don't think I'm close to ditching the writing gig for a life making music, as much as that would be sweet as honey, but it's sure good to get out and play. Scary and nerve-wracking, but the more I do it, the more comfortable it gets. Nice when it goes well and you get some positive feedback, too. And, again, to play the Horseshoe is a thrill. I suppose I was standing in the same spot on stage where Keith Richards would have stood. Maybe I absorbed some residual energy?
And it may not be the last time, as there's talk of maybe starting a series to benefit St. Francis Table. Next up: A tribute to The Band.
Count me in!
I kid, of course. But this past Thursday night, I played the Horseshoe again; the second time in less than a month. My friend Boag (who faithful readers will remember from the St. Paddy's Day Massacre (In Three-part Harmony) blog entry, had organized a Bruce Springsteen tribute night at The 'Shoe and asked me and our campadre Tim to once again back him up on guitar. Proceeds were to benefit a Parkdale outreach centre, St. Francis Table. So we practiced two songs: ìThe Feverî and ìRed Headed Womanî. I played lead guitar. Tim played acoustic rhythm.
It was billed as "The Wild, the Innocent, and the Queen Street Shuffle", and it turned out to be a very good night. As always, there were a few last-minute snafus or near-snafus. Just as I was leaving work, I got an email from Boag saying he'd decided that he'd start the show himself, and did I know any of these songs well enough to back him up: "Born To Run", "Backstreets", "Racing In The Streets", "Growin' Up", and one other I can't recall. I figured the only one I could do adequately on short notice was "Growin' Up", so when I got home, I ran through it a bit on my acoustic, and figured it out.
When I got to the 'Shoe, I met up with Boag, and we went across the street to Steve's Music to rent the drum kit, guitar amp and other accoutrements for the stage. (Later on, it was discovered that the drum kit was missing a hi-hat stand, resulting in a mad pre-show scramble by Jay Clark Reid of Jay Clark & The Jones, who heroically raced in their van out to Parkdale to get a replacement.) Had a bit of a problem finding a cab so we could transport the gear, but after two bailed on us, we found one guy that begrudgingly ferried us and the gear around the corner. Back at the 'Shoe, we huddled with Tim and ran through our two songs just to refresh our memories and do a little last-minute fine-tuning. I ran through "Growin' Up" with Boag, and it seemed to be all right. Then it was just a matter of waiting for show time.
I was definitely harbouring a few butterflies in my stomach, but I wasn't quite as nervous as I was before the St. Patrick's Day show, mostly because I felt I knew these songs better, thanks to the rehearsal we'd had the previous Sunday. (By the way, ìThe Feverî is a tricky little song, if you've ever tried to learn it. Not that the chords are difficult, but the way Bruce does it, there are sections that seem to straddle a line between a verse and a bridge, and sections that share the same lyrics as the first verse, but aren't structurally the same as the verse, just slightly different. Sneaky.)
When 10pm rolled around, Boag took to the stage and said a few words about St. Francis Table and ran through the line-up for the evening. Then I joined him and strapped on Tim's acoustic for "Growin' Up". I eschewed the picking pattern that Bruce does, and some of the finer points of his guitar playing on the song, in favour of a simpler approach that relied more on vigorous, rhythmic strumming. Keep it simple. It seemed to go pretty well. Good song to start the night with. And it was good for me to get up there early and get my feet wet, so to speak. Let loose some of those butterflies. For the next hour or so I just sat back and enjoyed the show. And it was a very good show, with all-round enjoyable performances; some absolutely stellar.
Dan Kershaw - I Wish I†Were Blind, Bobby Jean
(Our friend) Heather Morgan & The Company Of Men - Dancing In The Dark
Michelle Rumball - Across The Border
John Borra & Colleen Hodgson - 10th Ave Freezout,†Because The Night, Dead Man Walking (Colleen vocals)
Tim Armour - Nebraska
Cindy Archer & Co. - Dry Lightning
Pete Elkas and band - Darkness On The Edge Of Town, Streets Of Fire/Hungry Heart
Paul Emery & The Dickens - Prove It All Night
Jonah Ward & Tina Martinez - State Trooper
Not to mention the one and only Ron Sexsmith, who graced us with three or four songs, including "I Wanna Marry You" and "Factory".
As for our time on stage--under the name Boag And His Band And Street Choir--it went really well, helped in no small part by Don Kerr sitting in with us on drums, and Kenny Yoshioka ("The Japanese Torpedo") from Jay Clark & The Jones joining in on harmonica. It was very cool to play with Don, as I'd admired his playing for quite some time, with Ron Sexsmith and with The Rheostatics. Boag really let go on "The Fever", throwing himself into it, body and soul, and everyone seemed to be diggin' it, so he came over to me during my solo and yelled to stretch it out longer and keep it going. Felt pretty good. And "Red Headed Woman" went pretty well too. We had rehearsed it as sort of a rockabilly version, using Elvis' "That's Alright Mama" as a template, which is not that far removed from Bruce's solo acoustic version (it appears on the MTV XXPlugged album). But with the drums and harp and the energy on the stage, it seemed to emerge more like something from Dylan's Highway 61 Revisited (think Tombstone Blues). Perhaps not surprising since I had envisioned my role as more of a Mike Bloomfield/Robbie Robertson part. I'm afraid the fancy James Burton stuff just ain't my forte. I didn't seem to be hitting the notes as solidly as I wanted to during my solos, but people told me afterwards that it sounded all right. I guess there's something to be said for the transfer of energy over the accuracy of picking.
So it was a very satisfying night. And we raised about $300 for St. Francis Table.
Here's a pic from my friend Larry's photo-phone. Poor quality, I'm afraid.
me, torso and legs of the Japanese Torpedo
I don't think I'm close to ditching the writing gig for a life making music, as much as that would be sweet as honey, but it's sure good to get out and play. Scary and nerve-wracking, but the more I do it, the more comfortable it gets. Nice when it goes well and you get some positive feedback, too. And, again, to play the Horseshoe is a thrill. I suppose I was standing in the same spot on stage where Keith Richards would have stood. Maybe I absorbed some residual energy?
And it may not be the last time, as there's talk of maybe starting a series to benefit St. Francis Table. Next up: A tribute to The Band.
Count me in!
Thursday, April 08, 2004
Case Of Redemption
The most bothersome thing about the Phoney Neighbour Scammer wasn't so much the money, as it was the disappointment. Disappointment in me, that I could have made such an error in judgement, that my instincts had served me so poorly. And a general disappointment that my faith in human goodness was left bruised and battered.
I don't mean to overstate it. I'm sure if I had spent time in Rwanda 10 years ago, I'd be talking about a whole other level of faith in human goodness being destroyed. But still, I felt disappointed that I had decided to put my trust in this person, and I got burned.
But as much as that kind of let down is a fact of life, and a constant that runs through the human experience, we have to remember that redemption is always just around the corner. Or in this case, waiting to meet me at the corner.
It was a dark and rainy night... Well, it was!... Okay, okay. Last Saturday night, I ventured out into the steady rain to go see Neko Case and The Sadies at Lee's Palace. We were having quite a good little downpour, and I was waiting at the corner for the bus, umbrella sheltering me from the rain. Car pulls up and the driver, a 30-ish guy of vaguely Middle Eastern appearance, motions me over. I thought maybe he was looking for directions. Then I see him toss a pizza warming bag into the back seat. He leans over, opens the passenger door and asks me if I would like a ride to the subway station. I say sure, and hop in. Turns out he's a delivery driver for Pizza Hut, just on his way home, and he thought he'd give me a lift and save me from standing in the rain for maybe 10-15 minutes waiting for the bus.
What a nice guy! So he dropped me off a the Pape subway station, and I thanked him very much.
The karmic wheel must have been turning in my favour that night, because when I got to Lee's Palace, hoping that maybe there might be some tickets at the door for Neko's sold-out show, alas, the doorman said there was none...at the moment. I asked him what he meant, and he said, "Well, sometimes if you stand right over there and wait, somebody might come by with an extra ticket they're looking to sell." No sooner had the words left his mouth than the guy standing behind me, who had overheard our exchange, says he has an extra ticket he's looking to sell. Tickets were $18.50. I gave him $20 and I was in!
It was a fantastic show! They were recording both that night's show and Sunday night's show for a future live album. Video cameras were there too, for a future DVD I assume. The opening act was Jim And Jennie And The Pinetops, and they were very good bluegrassers, joined by Carolyn Mark for an opening set.
But Neko just blew the place away. She started with "Favorite" from the Canadian Amp EP. Oh man, there's a part in that song where the band falls away, and she sings "But I know that I-hiiiiiiiiy'm your favorite/And I say amen". On that "I-hiiiiiiiiiy'm" part, she just sang that so perfectly. 24 Karat twang. The whole show was marvelous. There were moments that were simply spellbinding. Even when they re-did several songs after the main set, the magic was still there.
She did mostly new songs that they were recording specifically for the live album. Kind of like Neko's Time Fades Away.
The Sadies were her backup band, along with John Rauhouse on steel guitar. Carolyn Mark and Kelly Hogan were her backup singers, both dressed in green blazers which they probably found in some menswear store's bargain bin.
But does Neko have the most wonderful voice in the world? I think maybe she does.
And they're doing it again tomorrow night and Saturday at the infamous after-hours bar The Matador. Should be a good 'n' wild one. Then she's back on the 28th at the Horseshoe. Woo!! April is Neko Month here in Toronto!
I don't mean to overstate it. I'm sure if I had spent time in Rwanda 10 years ago, I'd be talking about a whole other level of faith in human goodness being destroyed. But still, I felt disappointed that I had decided to put my trust in this person, and I got burned.
But as much as that kind of let down is a fact of life, and a constant that runs through the human experience, we have to remember that redemption is always just around the corner. Or in this case, waiting to meet me at the corner.
It was a dark and rainy night... Well, it was!... Okay, okay. Last Saturday night, I ventured out into the steady rain to go see Neko Case and The Sadies at Lee's Palace. We were having quite a good little downpour, and I was waiting at the corner for the bus, umbrella sheltering me from the rain. Car pulls up and the driver, a 30-ish guy of vaguely Middle Eastern appearance, motions me over. I thought maybe he was looking for directions. Then I see him toss a pizza warming bag into the back seat. He leans over, opens the passenger door and asks me if I would like a ride to the subway station. I say sure, and hop in. Turns out he's a delivery driver for Pizza Hut, just on his way home, and he thought he'd give me a lift and save me from standing in the rain for maybe 10-15 minutes waiting for the bus.
What a nice guy! So he dropped me off a the Pape subway station, and I thanked him very much.
The karmic wheel must have been turning in my favour that night, because when I got to Lee's Palace, hoping that maybe there might be some tickets at the door for Neko's sold-out show, alas, the doorman said there was none...at the moment. I asked him what he meant, and he said, "Well, sometimes if you stand right over there and wait, somebody might come by with an extra ticket they're looking to sell." No sooner had the words left his mouth than the guy standing behind me, who had overheard our exchange, says he has an extra ticket he's looking to sell. Tickets were $18.50. I gave him $20 and I was in!
It was a fantastic show! They were recording both that night's show and Sunday night's show for a future live album. Video cameras were there too, for a future DVD I assume. The opening act was Jim And Jennie And The Pinetops, and they were very good bluegrassers, joined by Carolyn Mark for an opening set.
But Neko just blew the place away. She started with "Favorite" from the Canadian Amp EP. Oh man, there's a part in that song where the band falls away, and she sings "But I know that I-hiiiiiiiiy'm your favorite/And I say amen". On that "I-hiiiiiiiiiy'm" part, she just sang that so perfectly. 24 Karat twang. The whole show was marvelous. There were moments that were simply spellbinding. Even when they re-did several songs after the main set, the magic was still there.
She did mostly new songs that they were recording specifically for the live album. Kind of like Neko's Time Fades Away.
The Sadies were her backup band, along with John Rauhouse on steel guitar. Carolyn Mark and Kelly Hogan were her backup singers, both dressed in green blazers which they probably found in some menswear store's bargain bin.
But does Neko have the most wonderful voice in the world? I think maybe she does.
And they're doing it again tomorrow night and Saturday at the infamous after-hours bar The Matador. Should be a good 'n' wild one. Then she's back on the 28th at the Horseshoe. Woo!! April is Neko Month here in Toronto!
Sunday, April 04, 2004
Pontificating
Today's headline:
Pope tells flock not to worship materialism
"The Pope, who appeared in good spirits and spoke in a relatively strong voice, directed his homily to young Christians, saying "Certainly the message that the Cross communicates isn't easy to understand in our era, in which material well-being and convenience are proposed and sought after as priority values."
He then retired behind the gold-lined doors of the Vatican where he had a nap on a Louis XIV divan underneath a priceless da Vinci painting.
Pope tells flock not to worship materialism
"The Pope, who appeared in good spirits and spoke in a relatively strong voice, directed his homily to young Christians, saying "Certainly the message that the Cross communicates isn't easy to understand in our era, in which material well-being and convenience are proposed and sought after as priority values."
He then retired behind the gold-lined doors of the Vatican where he had a nap on a Louis XIV divan underneath a priceless da Vinci painting.
Sunday, March 28, 2004
Love and Theft
I started out my "playing at the Horseshoe" entry by saying that it had been an interesting week. That was only part of the story.
That weekend, Bob Dylan was playing three gigs here in Toronto: Friday night at the Ricoh Auditorium, Saturday night at the Phoenix night club and Sunday night at Kool Haus night club. I had a ticket for the Phoenix show. But Friday night, blues guitarist Paul James added a late-announced gig at Cadillacs, out in Parkdale. Significance? The last couple of times Dylan played here, Paul James joined him on a few songs at Dylan's show, and Bob returned the favour, showing up unannounced and jamming with James at his club gig.
You didn't need to be a super-sleuth to surmise that Bob might show up at James' gig at Caddilacs, which is a short limo ride away from Bob's concert that night. Adding fuel to the fire was the fact that James was guesting with a band called The Catfish Blues Band, which neither myself nor any of my friends had heard of before. And Bob-philes know that Dylan has an obscure bluesy song called "Catfish" on his Bootleg Series: Vol.1-3 boxed set.
So, Friday night, after a delicious meal at Mitzi's Sister, I scooted over to Caddy's. Sign on the door said $8 cover, $6 with ticket stub from the Dylan show. Hmmm, interesting. Were they hinting, were they milking the rumours, or was the owner a big Dylan fan? First thing I heard when I entered the room was a Dylan song being played over the sound system. Hmmmmx2. I managed to find a spot at the bar near the stage. Good thing I got there when I did, because the place started filling up fast. Apparently a lot of other people had the same idea.
So, the Catfish Blues band plays a short set, and then Paul James gets up and plays a set on his own, mostly with acoustic guitar and harmonica. He plays a whole series of Dylan songs. And I'm thinking that's probably not such a good sign. Either way, I found it kind of tacky. James is a hell of a guitar player, but a bit too much of an "entertainer" for my liking. He has schtick. Plays the guitar with his teeth, behind his back, etc. Mugs for the crowd. Just a bit too much for my taste.
But between him and the Catfish band (who were quite good) and the palpable sense of anticipation in the sardined crowd, the place was rockin'! It was quite exciting, in fact. People were really having a good time (including my friend Boag's pal John/Jack, who got turfed by the doorman). But alas, closing time came, and no Bob.
So Saturday night I met up with Boag and John/Jack before the Phoenix show for a few beers at the wonderfully dive-y '70s-era Imperial Tavern on Dundas Street East, a drunk's stumble from the Eaton's Centre. We compared notes about the previous evening's proceedings at Caddy's. They had been at the Dylan show, so had begun The Celebration much earlier than me, so I was able to clear up some of their foggy memories. We cabbed it over to the Phoenix (treated to some killer church gospel on a tape the cabbie was playing) and found a spot near the back of the room, just behind the soundboard, and within easy striking distance of one of the smaller and not-too-crowded bars.
Dylan and his band came on a few minutes after we arrived, and started into their set (archived here for those of you who care to follow such things). Very nice version of "To Be Alone With You", and I was very happy to hear "I'll Be Your Baby Tonight". It was also cool to see him do "If You See Her, Say Hello". Bob stayed on piano all night, playing a keyboard that was set up stage left, dressed in his Cowboy Bob suit. Great band, as usual. He only used one drummer for this gig, I guess because the stage wouldn't fit the two kits used on this tour. Fine by me, since I think with the possible exception of Yes, or some other prog rock monsters, no band needs two drummers. Not for this kind of music, anyway.
I ventured up to the front a couple of times just to get a better look, but mostly I stayed back by the soundboard and took in the scene and the sounds from there. I can't say it was an amazing concert--I enjoyed his show at the ACC two years ago much more--but it was good, and it was cool to see Dylan in such a small venue.
After the show, I lost Boag and John/Jack, so I headed out to Mitzi's again, where local alt-country lads Jay Clark And The Jones were playing. A very good evening there. Jay and the boys sounded great, and Jay passed me a copy of their new CD, which is a very fine piece of work. Lots of good songs and a fuller, warmer production than their debut. Kudos to the boys.
Okay, I'm tired typing and I need to get ready for bed. But there's more to say about the events of last week. I'll continue with the "theft" portion of this topic at a later date.
[ooh, a cliffhanger!]
That weekend, Bob Dylan was playing three gigs here in Toronto: Friday night at the Ricoh Auditorium, Saturday night at the Phoenix night club and Sunday night at Kool Haus night club. I had a ticket for the Phoenix show. But Friday night, blues guitarist Paul James added a late-announced gig at Cadillacs, out in Parkdale. Significance? The last couple of times Dylan played here, Paul James joined him on a few songs at Dylan's show, and Bob returned the favour, showing up unannounced and jamming with James at his club gig.
You didn't need to be a super-sleuth to surmise that Bob might show up at James' gig at Caddilacs, which is a short limo ride away from Bob's concert that night. Adding fuel to the fire was the fact that James was guesting with a band called The Catfish Blues Band, which neither myself nor any of my friends had heard of before. And Bob-philes know that Dylan has an obscure bluesy song called "Catfish" on his Bootleg Series: Vol.1-3 boxed set.
So, Friday night, after a delicious meal at Mitzi's Sister, I scooted over to Caddy's. Sign on the door said $8 cover, $6 with ticket stub from the Dylan show. Hmmm, interesting. Were they hinting, were they milking the rumours, or was the owner a big Dylan fan? First thing I heard when I entered the room was a Dylan song being played over the sound system. Hmmmmx2. I managed to find a spot at the bar near the stage. Good thing I got there when I did, because the place started filling up fast. Apparently a lot of other people had the same idea.
So, the Catfish Blues band plays a short set, and then Paul James gets up and plays a set on his own, mostly with acoustic guitar and harmonica. He plays a whole series of Dylan songs. And I'm thinking that's probably not such a good sign. Either way, I found it kind of tacky. James is a hell of a guitar player, but a bit too much of an "entertainer" for my liking. He has schtick. Plays the guitar with his teeth, behind his back, etc. Mugs for the crowd. Just a bit too much for my taste.
But between him and the Catfish band (who were quite good) and the palpable sense of anticipation in the sardined crowd, the place was rockin'! It was quite exciting, in fact. People were really having a good time (including my friend Boag's pal John/Jack, who got turfed by the doorman). But alas, closing time came, and no Bob.
So Saturday night I met up with Boag and John/Jack before the Phoenix show for a few beers at the wonderfully dive-y '70s-era Imperial Tavern on Dundas Street East, a drunk's stumble from the Eaton's Centre. We compared notes about the previous evening's proceedings at Caddy's. They had been at the Dylan show, so had begun The Celebration much earlier than me, so I was able to clear up some of their foggy memories. We cabbed it over to the Phoenix (treated to some killer church gospel on a tape the cabbie was playing) and found a spot near the back of the room, just behind the soundboard, and within easy striking distance of one of the smaller and not-too-crowded bars.
Dylan and his band came on a few minutes after we arrived, and started into their set (archived here for those of you who care to follow such things). Very nice version of "To Be Alone With You", and I was very happy to hear "I'll Be Your Baby Tonight". It was also cool to see him do "If You See Her, Say Hello". Bob stayed on piano all night, playing a keyboard that was set up stage left, dressed in his Cowboy Bob suit. Great band, as usual. He only used one drummer for this gig, I guess because the stage wouldn't fit the two kits used on this tour. Fine by me, since I think with the possible exception of Yes, or some other prog rock monsters, no band needs two drummers. Not for this kind of music, anyway.
I ventured up to the front a couple of times just to get a better look, but mostly I stayed back by the soundboard and took in the scene and the sounds from there. I can't say it was an amazing concert--I enjoyed his show at the ACC two years ago much more--but it was good, and it was cool to see Dylan in such a small venue.
After the show, I lost Boag and John/Jack, so I headed out to Mitzi's again, where local alt-country lads Jay Clark And The Jones were playing. A very good evening there. Jay and the boys sounded great, and Jay passed me a copy of their new CD, which is a very fine piece of work. Lots of good songs and a fuller, warmer production than their debut. Kudos to the boys.
Okay, I'm tired typing and I need to get ready for bed. But there's more to say about the events of last week. I'll continue with the "theft" portion of this topic at a later date.
[ooh, a cliffhanger!]
Saturday, March 27, 2004
Careful With That Axiom, Eugene
Just this morning, while making my breakfast, I came up with a new axiom. Or maybe it's a maxim. Or an adage. Yes, I think it's more proper to call it an adage. I'm not changing the title of this entry though. Shame to waste a good pun. Anyway... it is this:
Let's see if this baby finds its way into the popular consciousness. It's like dropping an 'adage in a bottle' into the ocean of language. heh heh. Let's see where it ends up.
The finest bread will not always make the best toast.Please discuss in terms of appropriate usage or possible ways of fine-tuning the verbiage. And please feel free to start dropping it into your conversations. Remember to adopt the proper sagely tone, like this: "Ah yes, but remember [here you can raise an index finger for effect]: The finest bread will not always make the best toast." Yes, that should do it.
Let's see if this baby finds its way into the popular consciousness. It's like dropping an 'adage in a bottle' into the ocean of language. heh heh. Let's see where it ends up.
Friday, March 26, 2004
Whoa, Nellie!
I saw Nellie McKay (web pages here and here) last night at the El Mocambo. Wow! I love this girl! What an amazing, unique talent. She's been getting rave reviews for her album Get Away From Me, and you can believe the hype.
It's like the ghosts of George and Ira Gershwin inhabited the body of a 19-year-old misfit chick from New York City who was raised by a bohemian mom. Or maybe it's Cole Porter meets Phoebe Buffet? Nah, that's not fair, because she's not a comedy act, although she is very funny, but also incredibly witty, incisive, poignant and lots of other wonderful things. Wait, I know who she is! She's the love child that Elvis Costello and Diana Krall haven't had yet!
Check out some MP3s for David and Inner Peace and videos here.
Her electronic press kit is here
Go Nellie!
It's like the ghosts of George and Ira Gershwin inhabited the body of a 19-year-old misfit chick from New York City who was raised by a bohemian mom. Or maybe it's Cole Porter meets Phoebe Buffet? Nah, that's not fair, because she's not a comedy act, although she is very funny, but also incredibly witty, incisive, poignant and lots of other wonderful things. Wait, I know who she is! She's the love child that Elvis Costello and Diana Krall haven't had yet!
Check out some MP3s for David and Inner Peace and videos here.
Her electronic press kit is here
Go Nellie!
Monday, March 22, 2004
It's Not Easy Being Green
Been an interesting week. On Monday, my friend Stephen "Boag" O'Grady--a fine, soulful singer with a fine Irish name--emailed to ask me if I was interested in backing him up on guitar when he takes to the stage of the Lengendary Horseshoe Tavern to perform a few songs at the annual Martian Awareness Ball. The "Ball" is held every St. Patrick's Day, hosted by the one and only Mary Margaret O'Hara. For the past couple of Balls, Boag has hopped onstage to sing a few songs.
He told me he wanted to do Van Morrison's "Tupelo Honey" and also Van's arrangement of "Tura-Lura-Lural (That's An Irish Lullaby)" from The Last Waltz. Short notice, but I went to work learning the songs. "Tupelo" is pretty straightforward, so I worked out some lead guitar riffs I could throw in, and the link on The Band's site gave me the chords to that arrangement of "Tura-Lura-Lural".
We met at the íShoe at about 9pm and found the little rehearsal room in the basement was unused, so we huddled to go through the tunes, joined by Boag's friend Tim, who had played guitar with Boag last year. We decided he'd play on our songs and we'd play on his selection, "She's A Mystery To Me" which Bono and The Edge had written for Roy Orbison.
We ran through the songs a couple of times and worked out what we were going to do. However, the more I play in public (and this is perhaps only the sixth or seventh time I've played on stage at a real music venue) the more I realize that I need to rehearse a lot so I can really internalize the songs, so I don't have to think about what I'm playing. Just play it, feel it, remain more open and aware of what's happening on the stage and with the other musicians. So I was quite nervous, because even though I knew how the songs went, I didn't really have them down as much as I would have liked. While waiting around for things to get started, I was running through the chords in my head, and thinking about the general approach I was planning for the riffs and solos. Plus it was rather intimidating to be playing the stage at the Horseshoe, a venerable live music venue, and perhaps the most famous stage for rock and roots music in Toronto, as well as being my favourite live music venue in the city. At the same time, I was also quite excited to be playing on the same stage that has seen The Rolling Stones, The Tragically Hip, The Police and countless others. So all of that is going through my head as we're watching the strange spectacle of The Kings (you know, of "Switching To Glide" fame?) run through their pre-Ball opening set of five or six songs. (Still not sure what to make of that, but they were a little too heavy with the "let's-get-the-crowd-going" schtick. Had the feeling of has-beens trying to rekindle their career. Of course, coming from a "never was" like me, maybe that's a bit harsh. They at least had one pretty good hit song. That's one more than I have.)
Now, the thing about the Martian Awareness Ball is that it tends to be a little chaotic. It is St. Patrick's Day afterall. And it is a fairly zany event. But on top of that, there is very little in the way of stage management. I met and chatted with Mary Margaret beforehand, and she seems very sweet, but she tends to just let things run of their own accord. So even after she called us to come to the stage, it was about another 40 minutes until we finally got up there. And we had no sound check, and very little direction about what to do, so as the guitarist for the house band was leaving the stage, I had to ask him where I could plug in my guitar and my pedal board. I had never dealt with a stage with monitors and all that, so I just plugged in and hoped everything sounded okay. It sounded fine on the stage. The house band played with us--drummer, bass player and keyboard player, all very good players, so I told them what songs we were going to do and what keys they were in, and off we went! We also had a very good sax player named Richard Underhill play with us. He had performed just before us, so Boag asked him to stay on and honk along. "Tupelo Honey" went all right, I think. As I said, I had to really concentrate on my playing, and I was fairly nervous, so I had "stage blinders" on; not really very aware of what was going on around me. Mary Margaret joined in with us, I do know that.
Next we backed Tim on his song, "She's A Mystery To Me", which went all right, as far as I could tell, except I think I forgot what the proper chords were for the bridge, so I had to just sort of fake my way through that part, chopping at damped strings. Then we did "Tura-Lura-Lural"... and that's where everything went off the rails.
I wasn't really very aware of what was transpiring, but talking to Boag and others afterwards, it seems that at some point, this guy who was sort of emceeing the night joined in at the other microphone, I think maybe rapping or doing some sort of spoken word ad libs. Apparently that wasn't too bad, but then some other guy got up onstage and started yapping about something and just causing a lot of chaos, throwing everybody off. The song came crashing to a halt in confusion and bewilderment. Boag had to tell the guy to knock it off, and I think it was at that point that I had to actually re-start the song. We went through another go-round and then we brought it all home with the big ending, where I decided to just give 'er and started chopping out the closing chords with, as they say, extreme prejudice. Actually busted my D string in the process, which being the 4th from the bottom and not one of the smaller strings, takes a bit of doing. Rock íní†roll, baby!
Overall, I can't say I felt very good about my performance, and the chaotic closing number left a bad taste in my mouth, so I just wanted to get the hell out of there. Plus by that point it was going on 12:30 and I had work the next day. So I just packed up my stuff as quickly as I could and scampered off. As I was gathering up my gear, Mary Margaret gave me a pat on the back and said "good job", or something. That was nice of her. Perhaps she was just being kind, I dunno. However, it probably wasn't as bad as I thought, and it was certainly a thrill to play the Horseshoe.
Maybe next year we'll work out something that'll really bring down the house--in a good way. And if I get enough rehearsal in, I'll be able to keep my wits about me, and be ready to swing my guitar at the head of any goof who tries to hijack our gig.
He told me he wanted to do Van Morrison's "Tupelo Honey" and also Van's arrangement of "Tura-Lura-Lural (That's An Irish Lullaby)" from The Last Waltz. Short notice, but I went to work learning the songs. "Tupelo" is pretty straightforward, so I worked out some lead guitar riffs I could throw in, and the link on The Band's site gave me the chords to that arrangement of "Tura-Lura-Lural".
We met at the íShoe at about 9pm and found the little rehearsal room in the basement was unused, so we huddled to go through the tunes, joined by Boag's friend Tim, who had played guitar with Boag last year. We decided he'd play on our songs and we'd play on his selection, "She's A Mystery To Me" which Bono and The Edge had written for Roy Orbison.
We ran through the songs a couple of times and worked out what we were going to do. However, the more I play in public (and this is perhaps only the sixth or seventh time I've played on stage at a real music venue) the more I realize that I need to rehearse a lot so I can really internalize the songs, so I don't have to think about what I'm playing. Just play it, feel it, remain more open and aware of what's happening on the stage and with the other musicians. So I was quite nervous, because even though I knew how the songs went, I didn't really have them down as much as I would have liked. While waiting around for things to get started, I was running through the chords in my head, and thinking about the general approach I was planning for the riffs and solos. Plus it was rather intimidating to be playing the stage at the Horseshoe, a venerable live music venue, and perhaps the most famous stage for rock and roots music in Toronto, as well as being my favourite live music venue in the city. At the same time, I was also quite excited to be playing on the same stage that has seen The Rolling Stones, The Tragically Hip, The Police and countless others. So all of that is going through my head as we're watching the strange spectacle of The Kings (you know, of "Switching To Glide" fame?) run through their pre-Ball opening set of five or six songs. (Still not sure what to make of that, but they were a little too heavy with the "let's-get-the-crowd-going" schtick. Had the feeling of has-beens trying to rekindle their career. Of course, coming from a "never was" like me, maybe that's a bit harsh. They at least had one pretty good hit song. That's one more than I have.)
Now, the thing about the Martian Awareness Ball is that it tends to be a little chaotic. It is St. Patrick's Day afterall. And it is a fairly zany event. But on top of that, there is very little in the way of stage management. I met and chatted with Mary Margaret beforehand, and she seems very sweet, but she tends to just let things run of their own accord. So even after she called us to come to the stage, it was about another 40 minutes until we finally got up there. And we had no sound check, and very little direction about what to do, so as the guitarist for the house band was leaving the stage, I had to ask him where I could plug in my guitar and my pedal board. I had never dealt with a stage with monitors and all that, so I just plugged in and hoped everything sounded okay. It sounded fine on the stage. The house band played with us--drummer, bass player and keyboard player, all very good players, so I told them what songs we were going to do and what keys they were in, and off we went! We also had a very good sax player named Richard Underhill play with us. He had performed just before us, so Boag asked him to stay on and honk along. "Tupelo Honey" went all right, I think. As I said, I had to really concentrate on my playing, and I was fairly nervous, so I had "stage blinders" on; not really very aware of what was going on around me. Mary Margaret joined in with us, I do know that.
Next we backed Tim on his song, "She's A Mystery To Me", which went all right, as far as I could tell, except I think I forgot what the proper chords were for the bridge, so I had to just sort of fake my way through that part, chopping at damped strings. Then we did "Tura-Lura-Lural"... and that's where everything went off the rails.
I wasn't really very aware of what was transpiring, but talking to Boag and others afterwards, it seems that at some point, this guy who was sort of emceeing the night joined in at the other microphone, I think maybe rapping or doing some sort of spoken word ad libs. Apparently that wasn't too bad, but then some other guy got up onstage and started yapping about something and just causing a lot of chaos, throwing everybody off. The song came crashing to a halt in confusion and bewilderment. Boag had to tell the guy to knock it off, and I think it was at that point that I had to actually re-start the song. We went through another go-round and then we brought it all home with the big ending, where I decided to just give 'er and started chopping out the closing chords with, as they say, extreme prejudice. Actually busted my D string in the process, which being the 4th from the bottom and not one of the smaller strings, takes a bit of doing. Rock íní†roll, baby!
Overall, I can't say I felt very good about my performance, and the chaotic closing number left a bad taste in my mouth, so I just wanted to get the hell out of there. Plus by that point it was going on 12:30 and I had work the next day. So I just packed up my stuff as quickly as I could and scampered off. As I was gathering up my gear, Mary Margaret gave me a pat on the back and said "good job", or something. That was nice of her. Perhaps she was just being kind, I dunno. However, it probably wasn't as bad as I thought, and it was certainly a thrill to play the Horseshoe.
Maybe next year we'll work out something that'll really bring down the house--in a good way. And if I get enough rehearsal in, I'll be able to keep my wits about me, and be ready to swing my guitar at the head of any goof who tries to hijack our gig.
Wednesday, March 10, 2004
Sunday, March 07, 2004
Dodging A Bullet
The big news here last week was the three shootings in Scarborough in the space of a few hours Wednesday night. It was all the talk at the office too, because one of the shootings happened right outside our doors. (That's our building in the background of the picture in the linked article.)
When I stepped off the bus Thursday morning, there was a CITY-TV cameraman filming the intersection. As I hadn't heard any news that morning, I didn't know why he was there. But that's where the drive-by shooting occurred, where a man was shot dead. In my morning pre-coffee stupor I probably walked right by the blood stains without noticing.
The shooting had happened right at the intersection at about 5:20pm Wednesday evening. That's roughly the time I would normally be waiting for the bus at that corner, or, indeed, crossing the crosswalk to get to the bus stop. Not to make it overly dramatic, because there were other people standing at the bus stop--a couple of people from the office, in fact--and they weren't directly in danger's way, but under normal circumstances I would have been in the vicinity of the shooting, and...well, who knows what would have happened. Bullets can ricochet. Instead, I ended up getting a drive downtown at 4:30 with a colleague to pick up the Canadian Music Week pass and "swag" bag.
And they say music can't save your life!
When I stepped off the bus Thursday morning, there was a CITY-TV cameraman filming the intersection. As I hadn't heard any news that morning, I didn't know why he was there. But that's where the drive-by shooting occurred, where a man was shot dead. In my morning pre-coffee stupor I probably walked right by the blood stains without noticing.
The shooting had happened right at the intersection at about 5:20pm Wednesday evening. That's roughly the time I would normally be waiting for the bus at that corner, or, indeed, crossing the crosswalk to get to the bus stop. Not to make it overly dramatic, because there were other people standing at the bus stop--a couple of people from the office, in fact--and they weren't directly in danger's way, but under normal circumstances I would have been in the vicinity of the shooting, and...well, who knows what would have happened. Bullets can ricochet. Instead, I ended up getting a drive downtown at 4:30 with a colleague to pick up the Canadian Music Week pass and "swag" bag.
And they say music can't save your life!
Saturday, February 21, 2004
2004: A Space Ought-To-See?
It's not a large, opaque monolith, but it's an arresting headline nonetheless.
Opportunity explores mysterious spheres in Martian trench.
p.s. Cow! Kubrick! Cowoobrick!
Opportunity explores mysterious spheres in Martian trench.
p.s. Cow! Kubrick! Cowoobrick!
Monday, February 16, 2004
Traffic Was Crazy!
Some interesting results from my Sitemeter weekly report:
4 weeks ago:
Average per Day .................. 5
Average Visit Length .......... 0:06
This Week ....................... 38
3 weeks ago:
Average per Day .................. 6
Average Visit Length .......... 0:09
This Week ....................... 41
2 week ago:
Average per Day .................. 7
Average Visit Length .......... 2:13
This Week ....................... 47
Last week:
Average per Day ................ 116
Average Visit Length .......... 0:24
This Week ...................... 812
[screeeeech]
812!
Eight-hundred and frickin' twelve!
So much for my small but dedicated cult following.
Hmmm. An average of 116 visits per day. Average visit length of only 24 seconds. I'm wondering if it was the Jessica Simpson thing?
Checking the more detailed stats, it looks like a lot of people found their way here entering search terms for spongemonkeys, but traffic also peaked on Wednesday, when I posted about that "Jessica" song. [shrug]
4 weeks ago:
Average per Day .................. 5
Average Visit Length .......... 0:06
This Week ....................... 38
3 weeks ago:
Average per Day .................. 6
Average Visit Length .......... 0:09
This Week ....................... 41
2 week ago:
Average per Day .................. 7
Average Visit Length .......... 2:13
This Week ....................... 47
Last week:
Average per Day ................ 116
Average Visit Length .......... 0:24
This Week ...................... 812
[screeeeech]
812!
Eight-hundred and frickin' twelve!
So much for my small but dedicated cult following.
Hmmm. An average of 116 visits per day. Average visit length of only 24 seconds. I'm wondering if it was the Jessica Simpson thing?
Checking the more detailed stats, it looks like a lot of people found their way here entering search terms for spongemonkeys, but traffic also peaked on Wednesday, when I posted about that "Jessica" song. [shrug]
Friday, February 13, 2004
Classified Ad Of The Week
This ad for THE WORLD'S UGLIEST COUCH definitely puts the 'class' in classifieds.
Courtesy of Craigslist.
Courtesy of Craigslist.
Wednesday, February 11, 2004
Song Of The Week
This week's Song Of The Week goes to...
Adam Green for "Jessica".
(Quicktime required to view video)
This clip also wins the award for Best Use Of Ping-Pong In A Music Video.
Adam Green for "Jessica".
(Quicktime required to view video)
This clip also wins the award for Best Use Of Ping-Pong In A Music Video.
Saturday, February 07, 2004
Spongemonkey Sandwich
Our pal Vern brings this rather interesting development to our attention. Seems the people at the Quiznos sandwich chain have recruited our much beloved spongemonkeys for a web promotion.
We're not sure how to feel about this. It's often disturbing to see a favoured expression of wacked creativity from the margins get appropriated by large-scale commercial interests. On the other hand, begrudging kudos must go to Quiznos' marketing/ad people for daring to use the spongemonkeys, and for generally having the, uh, "quiznos", for such a strategy. There aren't many marketing strategies out there that are willing to recognize the role of web culture in the popular consciousness.
Either way, we here at jimbuck2 heartily applaud any punnerific use of the word 'buck', especially as used in the 'buck off' header on the promotion's web page.
It's also worth a trip over to rathergood.com to check out some of the new installments. We especially liked "When Biscuits Go Wrong" and The Zoology Dragon.
"COW! CUBE! COWUUUBE!"
We're not sure how to feel about this. It's often disturbing to see a favoured expression of wacked creativity from the margins get appropriated by large-scale commercial interests. On the other hand, begrudging kudos must go to Quiznos' marketing/ad people for daring to use the spongemonkeys, and for generally having the, uh, "quiznos", for such a strategy. There aren't many marketing strategies out there that are willing to recognize the role of web culture in the popular consciousness.
Either way, we here at jimbuck2 heartily applaud any punnerific use of the word 'buck', especially as used in the 'buck off' header on the promotion's web page.
It's also worth a trip over to rathergood.com to check out some of the new installments. We especially liked "When Biscuits Go Wrong" and The Zoology Dragon.
"COW! CUBE! COWUUUBE!"
Tuesday, January 27, 2004
Steely Definitions
I've been re-listening to Steely Dan lately. Quite an amazing band, of course. Lots of musical currents flowing in there. Jazz, pop, R&B, rock, funk. Great songwriters. "Peg", "Reeling In The Years", "Do It Again", "Dirty Work" (which I hadn't even realized was their song--sung by the guy who left after their first album), "Babylon Sisters", "Hey Nineteen", "FM". Albums populated with fine musicians. Only in the '70s would such a band as Steely Dan find success on mainstream radio. One more reason why I prefer the '7Os to this retched '80s nostalgia kick we're now suffering through. Ugh.
Kind of makes me wonder what kind of musical beast would have resulted had the Steely Dan bus collided with The Band's bus on some supernatural bayou highway in 1974, and when they emerged from the mystic bog, the two groups had been transmorgrified into one entity distilling the essence of each. A melting pot of Becker and Danko and Helm, with an easily imagined amalgam of Fagen/Manuel singing at the piano. And into that broth, throw in Garth Hudson! Oy!
What a cauldron of music! Imagine! The mind reels [in the years, Jim?]!
So Anyway.
I think partly I was inspired to re-dig the Dan by listening to Wilco's cover version of "Any Major Dude Will Tell You". A fine song and a fine cover version (perhaps a pale hint of what the abovementioned transmorgrified beast from the mystical bog might possibly sound like?). But this line in that song always intrigued me:
And, of course, to answer such questions, there's only one place to turn:
The Steely Dan Dictionary!
According to the good Dan book, a squonk is: A mythical woodland creature, originating in Pennsylvania. Squonks spend much of their time crying due to their ugliness, and when captured, will dissolve into a puddle of tears. Also the subject of a song on the 1976 Genesis album A Trick of The Tail.
Although I rather prefer the definition I found through a google search (dig the Latin name):
squonk n :
Lacrimacorpus dissolvens. A warty, loose-skinned, butt-ugly (and hence wretchedly shy) creature of the northern Pennsylvania hemlock forests, that when sought plays possum by dissolving in a surfeit of melancholy.
So, mystery solved.
For more on the Squonk, look here.
Kind of makes me wonder what kind of musical beast would have resulted had the Steely Dan bus collided with The Band's bus on some supernatural bayou highway in 1974, and when they emerged from the mystic bog, the two groups had been transmorgrified into one entity distilling the essence of each. A melting pot of Becker and Danko and Helm, with an easily imagined amalgam of Fagen/Manuel singing at the piano. And into that broth, throw in Garth Hudson! Oy!
What a cauldron of music! Imagine! The mind reels [in the years, Jim?]!
So Anyway.
I think partly I was inspired to re-dig the Dan by listening to Wilco's cover version of "Any Major Dude Will Tell You". A fine song and a fine cover version (perhaps a pale hint of what the abovementioned transmorgrified beast from the mystical bog might possibly sound like?). But this line in that song always intrigued me:
Have you ever seen a squonk's tears?Which obviously led me to ask "What the hell is a squonk?"
Well look at mine
And, of course, to answer such questions, there's only one place to turn:
The Steely Dan Dictionary!
According to the good Dan book, a squonk is: A mythical woodland creature, originating in Pennsylvania. Squonks spend much of their time crying due to their ugliness, and when captured, will dissolve into a puddle of tears. Also the subject of a song on the 1976 Genesis album A Trick of The Tail.
Although I rather prefer the definition I found through a google search (dig the Latin name):
squonk n :
Lacrimacorpus dissolvens. A warty, loose-skinned, butt-ugly (and hence wretchedly shy) creature of the northern Pennsylvania hemlock forests, that when sought plays possum by dissolving in a surfeit of melancholy.
So, mystery solved.
For more on the Squonk, look here.
Monday, January 26, 2004
Spuff
The story of the huge marijuana "factory" found north of here a few weeks ago has spawned this little jewel from spoof-meister Rick Mercer, riffing off an old rah-rah jingle for Ontario from many moons ago.
Not much growing out there tonight in this weather, except snow drifts and winter weariness.
And while I'm drawing on the CBC's info well, I'll give a shout-out to their quite cool web site for CBC Radio 3.
Not much growing out there tonight in this weather, except snow drifts and winter weariness.
And while I'm drawing on the CBC's info well, I'll give a shout-out to their quite cool web site for CBC Radio 3.
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