Pacing myself in taking in the natural beauty of the Lofoten Islands in Norway, I allowed myself a brief respite at the local bar-restaurant, Skjaerbrygga, which Melissa pronounces Shy Bugger. Really though, it’s quite charming.
So too is this lovely video that my friend just pointed out to me on YouTube.
As you can probably tell by watching, I didn’t have anything to do with the video and its maker didn’t even tell me about it, but I’m flattered. The artist known as Brignogan101 has other vids that you can check out. Thanks, whoever you are!
It is doubtful that Local Correspondent’s (LC) decision to host a Weezer tribute night at Bar Four had anything to do with the band’s newest album, Hurley, which will be released to the masses in less than a month. If anything, the fact that the theme was “The Blue Album vs. Pinkerton” implies a certain disdain, or at the very least, indifference toward every Weezer album that followed these two masterworks. That being said, my experience that night rekindled a distinct affection that I have always had for the band.
The night initially had “disappointment” written all over it, when the band (whose members shall go unnamed) that was to play Blue (my fave) canceled. But the lowly singer-songwriters came to the rescue, playing some beautiful renditions of choice hits, both from Blue as well as lesser known Weezer albums. There was even a song that can only be found on the Mallrats soundtrack, Suzanne (one of my favorites), which was performed admirably by Bucky Hayes. I also performed a banjo-fied version of In the Garage.
When the solo minstrels stepped down, the rockers stepped up, and they went by the name of Gary Atturio and the Pinkertons. Words can not aptly describe the level of intensity that these fellows brought, and the term “destroyed” gets bandied about by many in a variety of music scenes, but here the word applies. Just watch Eric Feigenbaum wail and Jeff Berner (of Chris Cubeta and the Liars Club) shred on Getchoo and you will understand my meaning.
Big ups to Great Elk’s Paul Basile and LC for putting together yet another stupidly fun tribute night. For those unfamiliar with LC Tributes at Bar Four, you have missed some great ones, including Bob Dylan, Tom Petty, Bruce Springsteen and Gillian Welch. Undoubtedly, there will be more greats to come.
I must take a moment to give a shout out to an awesome person and a great Family friend, Jeff Jacobson, for his new company, Abatab.com, which connects musicans to their fans… through sheet music.
Yes, Jeff has turned his talents to supporting artists by making available the guitar (and ukelele!) parts of songs to music lovers for a reasonable fee (3 bucks!) and the artists receive a “healthy” chunk of the duckets. The songs for which sheet music is now available are from some of my favorite people, including The Bowmans and Wes Hutchinson and a number of others are free, with a free mp3 to boot (What?!). A few of the freebies include songs by Bryan Dunn and Jessi Robertson. YES!
And it looks cool too. The website is quite tasteful, user friendly and a total pleasure to check out — just go to the “Preview Tab” icon on any of the available songs to see what I mean.
Big ups to Jeff, for continuing in an ongoing state of ass-kicking. Needless to say, his amazing songs still bounce through my head with great frequency. Lunch in the Park (Family Records), an EP recorded live with Chris Cubeta at Galuminum Foil Studios is a collection of songs that everyone should get their hands on. And it’s free, proof eternal that great minds think alike.
Here’s a thing you should know. I made a new friend. His name is Ryan Hobler, and he is the front man for an awesome band with whom I performed at Pianos, a few days ago, for Liberated Matter’s Cross-Pollination, #295. He and I played three cover songs for our shared set at the end, including Simon and Garfunkel’s Keep the Customer Satisfied, Fleetwood Mac’s Go Your Own Way and The Beatles’ I Me Mine (we specifically wanted to go with three bands who were kind of unknown).
When working out the arrangements for these songs, the night before the show, I realized that Ryan’s voice is one of the most beautiful that I have ever heard. So, I suggested that we start drinking beers as a way to get him drunk enough that I could find out the secrets to its startling gorgeousness. My wily subterfuge worked.
Here it is:
1. Procure 4 sticks of butter, unsalted
2. Place them in large bowl at room temperature for 45 minutes
3. Check that butter is properly softened, not melted*
4. Using a teaspoon, slowly consume the butter
*Note that drinking melted butter directly from bowl may result in the opposite of the desired effect
Oh yes, the band is called Sunroom, probably the chosen name because the Sun shines bright yellow, like butter. You would be a fool not to check them out, here.
It is rare these days that I have a big chunk of hours, free to use as I wish. I woke up today and immediately made plans to spend the afternoon with myself, recording some new songs in my living room. No sooner do I break out my M Box and cables than I hear the sound of a motor from outside my window. On to my fire escape, and right below me is…
It is much louder than it is big. I admit that I did think for a moment something like, “Poor me.” But it seems to be making people happy, children and onlookers alike. Alas, life will go on, just as Celine Dion’s heart did, 10 years ago. And besides, with this free time, I am able to do write my first entry in just under two months. And I don’t think this crazy contraption will stop me for running my set for the awesome sequel to the Bar Four May Residency that kicked off last Saturday… Tonight, Niall Connolly at 8pm, Not From Wisconsin at 9pm and then me and the band at 10pm.
I have come to the conclusion that J.J. Abrams is farting in my face. It is very likely that he is farting in yours as well, but I will only speak for myself. As with most episodes of Lost, tonight’s show got us no closer to any sort of resolution. I’ve actually resigned myself to the idea that there will be no resolution, and that’s actually ok with me.
Kate and Miles, farting in my face
What’s really annoying to me is the repetitiveness of it all. I don’t really care whether or not Ben Linus is good or evil (though I think I cared for most of season 2) and I certainly don’t care about Richard Alpert’s story (I guess he is strikingly handsome and his whole never growing old thing is kind of quirky, but really, does it matter?), and least of all, I don’t care to ever watch another sentimental beach reunion with the same sappy music, overdrawn smiles, and of course, slo mo — honestly, I beseech the most loyal Lost buffs to identify how many times they’ve done that on this show. I haven’t had that many reunions in my life, let alone in a 5 year period, or however long this fart fest has been going on.
I’m grateful that Paul Basile and his lovely wife Katie Baldwin introduced me to the wonderful world of plugging into Lost while on exercising on the treadmill, because if I had to sit myself down to watch this show for the hell of it, it just wouldn’t happen. But that’s just because I don’t have ABC at my house. My T.V. only registers NBC and Fox. Truth is, I can’t get enough of it and I look forward to more facial farts next week from the butt and mind of J.J. Abrams.
Two years ago I hosted a Tom Waits tribute at Bar Four, which to my recollection, was a wonderful night — the multiple glasses of whiskey that I consumed that evening did their very best to ensure that the memory of the experience remain fuzzy, but my brain cells appear to have been resilient. Or resilient enough, anyway.
About a year after that, my uber talented friend, Tom Curtin remembered that tribute and suggested that I submit my songs to something called The Puppet Playlist, a bi-monthly event that showcases the talents of both puppeteers and musicians paying homage to an artist or to a theme. Unfortunately, I submitted my music too late to be considered for their debut evening, which happened to be a Tom Waits tribute, but I have played the last four Puppet Playlists…
#2 – The Magnetic Fields
#3 – David Bowie (which I performed with Pearl and the Beard’s Emily Hope Price)
#4 – “The Seven Deadly Sins”
#5 – “Country Music”
The organizer of the Playlists, Josh Luxenberg and Jon Levin have put together five amazing evenings over the course of a year and all signs point to The Puppet Playlist continuing to kick ass… Word on the streets is that Playlist # 6 will be a tribute to They Might be Giants. Keep your eyes on that by visiting the new website… HERE!
Here’s a video of me throwing down at Playlist #4 this past December, for which I used “Dynamic Public Speaker” to say a little something about one of my favorite sins — VANITY!
Sam Dingman hosts an excellent weekly podcast, incorporating funny personal tales, thoughtful exploration of great literature, and a host of other interesting and weird topic discussions. It is called The Road 2 Shambala, and here you can listen to Last Week’s Episode, which features music from my last record, the The Drought.
Last night I dreamed that in the middle of a storm, with ominous gray skies and gigantic crashing waves, Wynn Walent took a little row boat with an outboard motor from the shore out to sea with no apparent purpose but to take on the challenge. I waited in a state of panic (for what seemed like hours in the dream) for him to return, though it became obvious that the ocean had swallowed him up…
But at the 11th hour he came back, casually approaching the shore in the row boat, this time in a surfer’s stance, with a look that said, “Hey! That was no problem whatsoever… what the hell is for dinner?!?!”
I love Wynn. And I could not have been happier with the fun times we had last weekend, short as it was. Beers at El Sombrero, whiskey at Bar Four served by Paul Basile, late night greasy food at Purity Diner, topped off by a hell of a show at Union Hall on Saturday …
… that also included Beau Jennings (and his ridiculously big and luscious new band) and Mr. Basile’s continually awesome Great Elk. The four of us played well and the snow didn’t seem to stop anyone from showing their love.
Excellent times. Farewell, Wynn. Come back when you can.
Last weekend my good friend, Lisa Box, sacrificed her ideals for a cool Halloween costume. Her actions and her words are proof that she is, at best, unethical. At worst… Evil. If only she weren’t so adorable. See below…
