Friday, November 30, 2007

A confession, but not the one you're expecting.

A confession, but not the one you're expecting.

So I'm sitting here, listening to the reissue of U2's The Joshua Tree Tree, and damn if they did not have it fucking down back then. Even the bonus disc, of unreleased tracks (FWIW, the version of "Sweetest Thing" they recorded in 1987 kicks the ass of the new millennial re-recording / single), slay ... and build ... and reach those anthemic stadium-fucking-heights that no band seems able to do anymore (sorry Win Butler y crew, you reach, and I love you for that, but it ain't the same.).

Man, am I in a fucking retro mood today, or what? Must be the Panic! in my veins.

Here, listen.

MP3: U2 "Luminous Times (Hold On To Love)"

More people are tracking me down.

More people are tracking me down.

I suppose it's a testament to just how pervasive online social networking has become, but I've had A LOT of people from WAY back in my past start to find me recently. Some find me through this site, others through MySpace, and a few just sort of stumble across me on Chicagoist, not even realizing who I am until they read my bio and peep my name.

Now, I'm the sort that remembers the past fondly, and tend to get sentimental over what fragments I can remember. I say fragments because honestly, for a span of time, that's how my memory sequences things. Often I completely forget people I hung out with on a daily basis until something comes along to jar that memory and unlock a fragment that had been hiding.

So when people from my past start popping up, and talking about other old friends, I love it. More of my memory returns, and the picture becomes more vivid. This might be hard to believe to some whom have heard stories about my years in Normal, IL, or my early Chicago years, but often things were even weirder than I usually remember. So when I say vivid, let's say something goes from Technicolor to full-on Surreal when my memories engorge and fill with various fragments that had previously been suppressed via poor recollection.

So, old friends, I hope you keep stumbling back across my path ... maybe one day I'll run into enough of you I finally remember everything from my past and can avoid making some of the same stupid mistakes!

Here is where i'll be getting my groove on tonight.

Here is where I'll be getting my groove on tonight.

Wow, a whole weekend without me DJing anywhere, what a nice surprise! What's an even nicer surprise? For once I'm not DJing or promoting a show the same night as Panic!, one of my absolute favorite dance parties in town. You know when I hit those bit in the sets where I totally geek out over Brit-pop and like-sounding groups? Imagine that expanded to 5 hours. Is it the sort of thing you want to hear every night? No. But it sure hits that sweet spot once a month.

See, here's me an Keep getting down* a few months ago.


What, you can't see us? Here.


Better? It's a good thing I'm tall and tower over all those midgets, huh?

See you tonight.

*And by "getting down" I mean standing at the bar, talking, and doing shots."

Thursday, November 29, 2007

Sometimes it's almost too easy.

Sometimes it's almost too easy.

Doug Morris. CEO of UMG. Buffoon. This guy summarizes his recent interview perfectly, huh?

Good and bad causes.

Good and bad causes.

Tonight I shall be making two stops on my merry rounds. The first is here.


Lizz did a fine job summing this event up earlier this week, so read her account for more details. That's the good cause.

The bad cause is of course the trouble-making that will be going on at Liar's Club later this evening, including -- I shit you not -- the Chicago Illinois State Rock Paper Scissors Champion. And it's Josh from La Scala's birthday party, so there will be cupcakes!


They had me at "Cupcake."

Yeasayer? Naysayer? Idunnosayer?

Yeasayer? Naysayer? Idunnosayer?

So I'm listening to Yeasayer's All Hour Cymbals, and my first reaction is to get annoyed at how much they rip off Peter Gabriel.* But then I remember kinda feeling the same way when I first heard TV On The Radio, and they went on to become recent favorites truly respected by me. The primary difference is that the first TVotR track I heard was "Staring At The Sun," which even with the vocal and stylistic nod to Gabriel was pretty astonishing.

So I've learned not to jump to immediate conclusions. At the same time, Yeasayer seems to be missing the layered complexity TVotR has, and they certainly don't have the soul. That much is apparent even at this early juncture. And here's what I guess kind of bothers me most; I don't think Yeasayer would exist without TVotR, and bands that mimic other bands that are nearly their contemporaries always rub me the wrong way.

So I'm still holding back my final judgment, but at this juncture I've got to say the band's fighting an uphill battle to gain my allegiance. I mean, I sort of enjoy them, but can't figure out why everyone else seems to be going apeshit for 'em. Only time will tell.

MP3: Yeasayer "Sunrise"

*Though, to be fair, I'm beginning to hear more David Byrne than Gabriel in Yeasayer, which actually isn't helping since the last band to rip off Byrne so raised my ire.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Why did this take so long to hit my radar?

Why did this take so long to hit my radar?

Does anyone besides me remember Wolcott? More people probably see their old bass player Ben in a totally different light than I do. I always loved watching he and his huge 'fro of hair wobbling alongside lead singer Ryan. That band had so much energy, with the only downside being that you HAD to see them live to get it. Their single album just doesn't do the group justice.

Well, a bunch of guys that used to be in Wolcott teamed up with ex-40 Piece Choir folks, re-jiggered the set-up (for instance, Ryan is behind the kit instead of singing ... something that seems eerily familiar), and names themselves The Quilts. They play a mix of Americana and stadium rock, which makes total sense considering the roots of the group's various members. Coe to think of it, they kind of sound like what I thought the 1900s were going to sound like, based on their press. Anyway, The Quilts are playing Double Door next month, and i think I'll just have to make it out to see what they're like live. This track should be enough to whet you're appetitive too ... especially from the 1:36 point onward.

MP3:
The Quilts "4th of July"

Sweet teeny tiny baby Jesus indeed.

Sweet teeny tiny baby Jesus indeed.

I am so lame, but I can't stop singing this song now.



Credz Lauren for polluting my eyes and ears.

Eleven down, forty-one to go.

Eleven down, forty-one to go.

The Rough Guide to The Velvet Underground
by Peter Hogan


Man, is this pitiful. What do you think the chances are of me reading 41 books in the next, oh, 33 days? Pretty slim, huh? Better luck next year Tankboy.

I shall, however, continue on through the end of the year so hopefully I'll actually be able to swallow another couple of books whole and spit out a few more reviews.

This one was a bit of an impulse buy a few weeks ago, when I realized that while I knew the general history of The Velvet Underground, I was woefully short when it cam to super specific facts. Like, why the hell would the band dump John Cale only to bring on Doug Yule? Or where the hell did Sterling Morrison disappear to for so many years, and why? Or, what exactly happened to Nico in the years between her leaving The Velvet Underground and her unfortunate death via blow to the head?

Well, Peter Hogan's Rough Guide does a nice job of answering all those questions, along with a slew I had never thought to ask. After reading it I came away with one universal truth about the band.

Lou Reed is an asshole.

I had always suspected as much, but thought his contrary poses were mostly just that. But the book reveals Reed to be, for the most part a pretty self-centered malcontent. It's true that Reed grows fiercely protective of his bandmates if they are attacked outside of camp, but he seemed to relish in applying the most scathing insults to the ex-VUers himself. Of course this is countered by Reed's staggering talent, and his propensity to write amazing music, even when it appears on lackluster or unfocused solo albums.

Amazingly the book presents this viewpoint of Reed without actually weighing in with any sort of moral judgment, and that's as it should be. Instead, Hogan does a fine job outlining the group's history, including subsequent solo careers, while dropping in plenty of trivia and interesting minutiae about the band's albums and recording process. Overall it's a handy little intro to one of the most influential groups ever, and since it's a rough guide it's super up-to-date, even including that insane eBay auction over the acetate of the band's original recordings for their legendary debut that occurred just over a year ago.

I'd recommend this as a good read to both neophytes and long-time fans.

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Imminent turkey imbalance!

Imminent turkey imbalance!

Every year it's the same thing; I get sick of the leftover Thanksgiving turkey long before it gets sick of me. When I don't want to touch another slice, you can bet that turkey is still sitting in my fridge, mocking me, daring me to finish it.

This year is different though! I've been really enjoying our turkey stores this time around, and it appears we are going to run out of leftovers long before my appetite is sated! I've never dealt with a conundrum like this! How could I have SO miscalculated!

Oh well, next year I'll keep* the turkey to mouth ratio in mind, in hopes of finally finding that happy medium of being sated rather than starved or sick.

*Visual pun intended.

Puppy!

Puppy!

I was having a bit of a blech day, when Margaret directed me to this photo:


It was taken by this guy, and I highly recommend spending some time poking around his page if you too need some brightening up.

Another reason to brighten up? Free booze and iPods in Chicago, tonight!

Karaoke without a net.

Karaoke without a net.

In South Haven there is a bar we pass every time we drive to or from Photogal's farmhouse. It's one of those sort of prefabbed looking places, a little rough around the edges, and obviously aimed at attracting locals and not the more affluent out-of-towners that tend not to leave the downtown South Haven area unless they're going on winery tours or indulging in similar activities.

Now this bar has one of those lit-up signs, with the big arrow pointing towards the establishment, advertising karaoke on Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays; and every time we've passed the place -- for the past year or so -- I always joke that we HAVE to go there and do some karaoke.

Well, last Saturday Photogal called my bluff.

We were on our way home after dinner when she turned to me and said, "Maybe we should finally just check it out, huh?" So we pulled into the lot, surrounded by pick-ups and station-wagons, exited the Jeep and crept to peek in the window. We figured we'd better survey the place before entering to the soundtrack of a skipping needle followed by a breeze from all the heads snapping in our direction.

The scene we captured was of a brightly lit room, reasonably packed, with lots of dudes playing pool. The inhabitants were definitely locals through and through, with a fair amount of camouflage peppering the crowd (it's deer season), but overall it looked like a crowd we could handle ... or at least outrun if things suddenly got weird.


You see it's one thing to enter a strange bar with a bunch of friends, since the more folks you have with you, the deeper your safety barrier is. But when you enter a room with no one else but your ex, and things go South, you might find yourself face-down in the dirt with a busted rib circled by a bunch of angry townies.

Of course, if we all worked off the above theory, we'd never try anything new, and we'd continue to live in a bubble that reflected unfair stereotypes inward instead of dashing preconceptions with reality. But I digress.

I admit when we entered the room we attracted more than a few confused glances, and the bartender seemed slightly stymied when we actually started ordering drinks and shots. As the evening went on though, we noticed people started to loosen up around us, but I don't think the ice finally broke until I sang my own version of "Sweet Caroline." Folks that have seen me karaoke know that I love to twist the lyrics of that particular Neal Diamond song to create new narratives, and I also like using it as a good warm-up song since it's a slow burn for the vocal chords.

For the Michigan crowd I adopted the standpoint of a housewife tired of cleaning her trailer and waiting for he man to return with the days hunting spoils. I could see Photogal stiffening when I started singing about shooting deer -- since she knew I was already pretty drunk and could very likely say something to offend the room en masse -- but at the last second I veered into praising the hunters of the room and got a couple whoops and cheers in response.

After that it was all over. Folks would come up and briefly chat with us, and as Photogal downed Tecate after Tecate I noticed she was spending a lot of time with the karaoke songbook. At first I thought she was trying to pick out another song for me, but I slowly realized she intended to sing! Photogal! Singing! In public!

I was stoked.

After much debate she decided on Fleetwood Mac's "Go Your Own Way" -- ironic for a host of reasons -- and dragged me up to do it as an ad-hoc duet. Apparently the crowd liked a) Fleetwood Mac b) Photogals' voice and c) my el dorko posturing and hopping about. And apparently Photogal loved karaoke, because we were BACK on the stage a few minutes later chugging through Cheap Trick's "I Want You To Want Me" complete with crowd sing-a-long responses.

After that we sat back and enjoyed a few songs by this one guy with a tremendous voice that would vacillate between country and soul standards. We marveled at the fact that there are apparently specially built glasses whose entire purpose is to house Jägerbombs.* And I smoked far too many cigarettes. Last call was announced and we realized, with great shock, we had been in the bar for somewhere along the lines of 4 hours or so. I'm not going to say we walked out with any new friends, or even that there weren't a couple of folks that obviously were rather suspicious of us and our clothes (and, perhaps, our song selections since they veered pretty far from the standard country selections).

I will say that we had a blast though, and will surely indulge in some more karaoke at that bar at some point in the future. I'll also say it was probably some of the most fun Photogal and I have had out on the town together in a really long time. And finally I'll say this; the out-of-towners that never make it out of the tourist-friendly spots are really missing out and depriving themselves of some honest, off-the-cuff, wholly entertaining, fun.

*Obviously we've been living sheltered lives for far too long. Although, in our defense, the bartender had no idea what "Maker's Mark" was.

Monday, November 26, 2007

Photos from my last DJ set at The Continental are up.

Photos from my last DJ set at The Continental are up.


Superstar photog Clayton Hauck (a.k.a. the guy with the magic lens that makes EVERYONE look hot) was shooting pictures while I DJed at The Continental. Check out how much fun you missed.

Saturday, November 24, 2007

It blows my mind, it does.

It blows my mind, it does.

I just noticed Gmail now offers over 5GB of storage. That's larger than the hard drive on the computer I was using up until just a few months ago.

Wow.

Friday, November 23, 2007

TV Eyes needs some cutting and splicing.

TV Eyes needs some cutting and splicing.

With such an amazing pedigree (Roger Manning? Brian Reitzell? Jason Falkner?! Holy crap!) it's no surprise that TV Eyes write electro neu-wave that is almost uniformly perfect when it comes to melody and arrangement. The group's talent can't be denied, but they do have a fairly obvious fatal flaw, and it's one that befalls most insanely gifted songwriters.

They don't know when to stop.

Almost every song on TV Eyes is 3 to 4 minutes too long! What should have been a set of blissful pop nuggets turns into a collection of ingratiating hooks that slowly turn grating. Bummer, huh?

Here's an example:

MP3: TV Eyes "She's A Study"

If it was 2 minutes shorter, it'd be perfection. Also at 3:14, I can't help but feel like that little lick is right out of "In A Big Country." Don't get me wrong, it's still pretty great stuff! But it could've been better if someone had just said, "Um, guys, maybe we shouldn't repeat that chorus that extra time, and let's trim down the bridge and just tighten things up, huh?"

Photo by J.J. Blair

Thursday, November 22, 2007

Gobble gobble ... now dance!

Gobble gobble ... now dance!

I'm heading off to Michigan to finish the last of by New Yorker pile and maybe work through a few books so my 52 Books in 52 Weeks list looks slightly less pitiful. Slightly.

If I was staying in town tonight, though, this is where I'd be:


(Remember, if you see Kip, don't look down, and keep your drinks at chest level.)

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

New Mystery Jets!

New Mystery Jets!

I can't wait for this weekend to kick off enough already, and have to compose at work while fighting the urge to bounce right the fuck out of my seat, down the stairs, and out the front door. Luckily, this sweet slice of heaven popped in and helped calm me down a tad.

They played this one when they were in town. What? You missed that show? Even though I told you and told you and TOLD YOU not to?

Fool.

MP3: Mystery Jets "Flakes"

Here, I made a silly flier.

Here, I made a silly flier.


Also, today might be the first day I EVER have a cigarette while actually still at work. Wild, man, wild.

P.S. If you are the girl in the photo, I promise i won't hold all those MySpace pop-ups against you if you take me out for coffee. Thank you.

Short. Sweet. GOBBLE GOBBLE! (No, not you, Missy.)

Short. Sweet. GOBBLE GOBBLE! (No, not you, Missy.)

I'm DJing the Pre-Turkey Day Dance Party at The Burlington TONIGHT with Kevin from Mannequin Men.

Let's out-do the amount of fun that was had at the Halloween party, yes?

Get there early to a) carve out a dancing spot and b) to avoid having to wait in the line that's sure to form.

Get there early, avoid the line you KNOW is going to appear.

It should be awesome.


Plus, these guys will be there for sure.


The Burlington is located at 3425 W Fullerton ... be there!

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Utterly contemptible.

Utterly contemptible.

Your wife has disappeared. You're suspect number one. You continue to insist your heart is broken because she's left you for another man. And then, yesterday, after appearing on national television to proclaim your innocence, you let The Trib take pictures of you mugging it up like so:


You have to be fucking kidding me.

Yr a turkey.

Yr a turkey.

All is not morose around here, just so you know. In fact Photogal cooked a pre-Thanksgiving turkey last night so our place smells REALLY delicious right now.

Sorry, just couldn't totally start the day off on the wrong foot.

Social binging.

Social binging.

I've been out a lot lately.

Shows. DJ nights. Band practice. Parties. Etcetera. There are a number of reasons for this, most of which I won't go into since I don't feel like discussing it in this forum at this point, but it's safe to say the primary motivation behind this more recent behavior is that I am simply a social animal. I like to be engaged in the world around me, and a lot of things I enjoy seeing and writing about are based within social gatherings. It's just the way it is.

One question that's been coming up in a lot of my conversations lately has been, "When exactly do you sleep?" My answer is that I sleep when I need to. And I don't need oodles of sleep, but believe me when I say I do get a full 8 hours most nights. As long as I have sufficient time to recharge I can just keep trucking along.

Actually, I guess I'm as surprised by my resilience as anyone else is. I am getting older, and many of my contemporaries no longer indulge in the same lifestyle I do ... and honestly by now I really thought I'd be married with a kid or two. And maybe that's still in the cards, since Lord knows I'd like having a son or daughter to raise and nurture. I admit, though, it seems like if that was going to happen, it should've happened by now. However, I get annoyed when those same contemporaries accuse me of not "growing up" or being an adult." I work a pretty good 9-to-5 job. I can support myself. I am amazingly productive. I pay my bills, and my taxes, and donate to charity, and all that good stuff. I've displayed a long trend of acting pretty responsibly ... so how am I not an "adult?"

And there's also this; if I didn't go out and attend shows and DJ and do all the stuff I love and that makes me happy, would I be the same person? Could I be happy without this component of my life? Or, say I had a kid, would they fill me up so full everything else would pale in comparison?* This is the sort of stuff that comes up during an internal audit, and it's frustrating because it's not the sort of thing you can really answer until you're actually in that situation.

So I'll just continue the audit and mark the above concerns down as moot, for now.

*My gut feeling is that the answer to this is obviously yes.

Monday, November 19, 2007

Used veggie oil to power pickup truck.

Used veggie oil to power pickup truck.

I just learned that my mechanic is the first one in Chicago to work on transforming an diesel engine to allow it to run on used vegetable oil. Read all about it.

Life with Betty the Beagle.

Life with Betty the Beagle.

Does this guy have a spycam in my house, or what?

Friday, November 16, 2007

Chicks dig me.

Chicks dig me.

A la John on Sullivan: Sorry boys, they're both taken.

Shhh ... don't tell Photogal ...

Shhh ... don't tell Photogal ...

I caved yesterday and bought the complete Twin Peaks DVD. Guess what I'm going to be doing over the Thanksgivving holiday? That's right, I'll be in Michigan, wrapped up in a blanket, on the couch with Betty the Beagle, drinking in David Duchovney in a dress and other wonderful and surprising imagery.

But that's next week, I've got something I need to do before that. And that would be DJing at The Continental tomorrow night! It's been a while so I'm looking forward to climbing back into their booth, and it promises to be a pretty crazy evening. Since I'm DJing, my friend Denise has decided to celebrate her birthday there, so we've automatically filled half the room with a bunch of drunken wild-women. As an added bonus Rudy will be joining in and contributing a set early in the evening, so that should be smoking too. Basically, you just NEED to be there ... and get there early so you can actually snag a seat or a booth. Although I do expect to see all o' your asses dancing at some point in the evening.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

Not that I'm totally ditching MySpace but ...

Not that I'm totally ditching MySpace but ...

If you ACTUALLY know me in the real world, add me on Facebook.

And then of course that'll be passé and you have to add my Orkut profile, because Google will have just bought up everything by then, right?

Prince fans should piss Prince off more often and goad him into picking stupid public fights.

Prince fans should piss Prince off more often and goad him into picking stupid public fights.

So after the brew ha-ha of the moms getting (rightfully) defensive over Prince's C&D over her l'il baby getting down to "Let's Go Crazy," Prince has decided to deliver a mea culpa in the form of a free song he's urging fans to post online. I guess he must have been feeling really bad, because the peace offering comes in the form of a 7+ minute Funkadelic-inspired freak-out unlike anything the man has worked up in quite a while.

Dig it.

MP3: Prince "PFUnk"

Dig this too. I had to cancel my Bomb Squad appearance tonight since I am spinning at The Continental on Saturday. Since I'm only at The Continental every other month or so, and it requires a 6-hour DJ set, I try to keep the week around those appearances free.

Fret not, though, since Lisa and JB have lined up an awesome guest DJ for this Thursday at Liar's Club! Scott Lucas -- of Local H and Prairie Cartel fame -- will be stepping into the booth (and in front of the KISS cut-out, no word on whether he's getting made up for the evening or not)! And while I won't be spinning, I will most certainly be in attendance, so join me for a round of shots to toast yet another stellar Thursday Bomb Squad line-up!

Slightly related: Is anyone else out there getting their geek on and attending the sold-out TECH Cocktail meet-up earlier Thursday evening? If so, let me know and we'll hook up to drain away all the free booze they serve.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Got my invite to Hulu.com ...

And I think I love it already. I'll be writing up a full review for Chicagoist (if I can figure out a local angle) or donewaiting (if I can't) in a day or too, but here's the first video that made me laugh out loud.*



*Keep in mind I haven't watched SNL "live" in yeeeaaars.

Ramblings, both specific and vague.

Ramblings, both specific and vague.

I was at the gym yesterday and had a thought, not a new one, regarding the other folks working out around me. It's sort of a personal conundrum for me. When you work out at roughly the same time as many days a week as I do, you start to recognize lots of faces. And the fact that you're all there, doing the same thing, at the same time, creates a false camaraderie. I'm sure it's this mistaken notion of actual social manifestation that leads so many dunderheaded guys to actually think it's appropriate to hit on a girl at the gym.*

Personally I draw inspiration from the people I see on a daily basis. (Yes, even the creepy older dude that insists on walking around the locker room completely naked. He grosses me out, but he is there every day, so I admire his dedication.) Though now that I've written that, and am really starting to think about it, there is a certain 5th-grade girl-crazy mentality that I must be harboring under the surface. I take great pains not to look at cute girls at the gym for fear they will think I'm yet another dunderheaded dude checking them out. But if I notice them to that extent, and have to actively think of averting my gaze, aren't the same motivations at work under the surface? I'm not making the leap to assume that because they are cute, and at the gym the same time as I am, that we are inhabiting some shared experience that warrants any sort of conversation, but I guess I can understand the basis of other dunderheaded dudes' reactions to the confusing social situation at the gym.

Jesus, I think I just confused myself. I admit I started this with the intention of pointing out what a grand egalitarian fellow I am when it comes to the social inner workings of sensitive communal activities, but I think I have to admit that while I have the internal mechanism in place to keep from acting like an asshole, it doesn't change the fact that I still possess the facility to think like an asshole.

I've been doing quite of bit of mental surveying lately, due to a situation that's arisen that I don't feel free to comment on at the moment. Suffice to say it's the sort of thing that forces one to takes a step back and really take stock of who they are and why they do what they do. Other detritus -- like the above rambling -- gets broken loose when you do something like this, and sometimes that makes it hard to focus on the task at hand. At the same time, you often have to sift through miles of mud before finding even the faintest glimmer of gold, so it's all part of the process.

That sounds like some out of a goddamned self-help book doesn't it? Yuck-o.

So what three major points did we learn from today's unfocused rambling?
  • Tankboy respects people who make a commitment to working out on a regular basis.
  • Tankboy thinks guys shouldn't be checking girls out at the gym.
  • Tankboy thinks girls at the gym are hot.
  • Tankboy can be a bit of a hypocrite, huh?
*For the record guys, that's just creepy. Trust me when I say workout outfits, no matter how revealing, are NOT meant to impress you and elicit a verbal come-on.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Why I fear that, although I really want one, I will never be able to own an Apple computer.

Why I fear that, although I really want one, I will never be able to own an Apple computer.

It's pretty simple really: I type too hard. After years of having a really crappy keyboard on my ancient Compaq, my finger attack the keys like little ball-peen hammers. I truly feel sorry for my coworkers. (Well, most of them. They guy across from my is a loud typist too, so it's nice to have some company.)

Here's what a sentence looks like this when I type it on an Apple keyboard:
Hii thhere,, how aare you? (terrible spacing included.)

Is this because Apples are so perfectly engineered that all they require is a whisper-touch to pick out each letter Does this consign me to a world of nothing by regular PC-interaction for the rest of my life? it'd be fine if I was just using an Apple for design or sound purposes, but I get paid to write, dammit! A functioning keyboard that doesn't require me to correct almost every single word is sort of required!

Or am I missing something? Can you set an Apple keyboard to be less sensitive? Is there hope for me and my anvil-heavy monkey-fingers after all?

Photo by alcomm

Monday, November 12, 2007

Usually I'm rabidly anti-MAXIM here, but ...

Usually I'm rabidly anti-MAXIM here, but ...

Just try and tell me Buffy's not rocking a total Rosanna Arquette vibe here:


Growr.

Since the writer's strike has stopped the current season of production on 24, let's take a look back at the series' humbler beginnings.

Since the writer's strike has stopped the current season of production on 24, let's take a look back at the series' humbler beginnings.

Waaaaay behind.

Waaaaay behind.

Offline all day Thursday.

In Michigan all weekend, with 0.5 hours internet access sandwiched between time with Photogal, her mom, and my mom.*

Back online today but feeling slightly overwhelmed.

Read a piece in NYT this weekend about the 4 hour work week, and I'm currently thinking that's an awfully swell idea, although I don't think I'd outsource the whole dating thing.**

*Wherein I, yes, played the perfect boyfriend / son role, right down to cooking an early A.M. Sunday breakfast in multiple parts, including the cleaning of dishes and an after-cup of coffee / tea whilst perusing, Rockwell-stylee, the NYT.

**Has anyone ever noticed, and I admit I really didn't until just now, that I make certain assumptions about readers of this site? Like, I expect they'll catch the obscure refs, and at least the between-the-lines commentary about the know refs? Like, I expect you're read everything I have? And this isn't the case, and the tone isn't universal, and I do take time to explain the weirder connections I make (like I will when I hit the whole Daniel Ash and Lour Reed as failed soul singer thing), but after the amount of time we've spent together I sorta expect you'll at least understand the literary shorthand that pervades posts like the one above. Right? We are on the same page, right? Right?

Friday, November 09, 2007

Final nail in the coffin?

Final nail in the coffin?

I'm reasonably sure The Chicago Tribune was never gonna come knocking down my door, begging me to write for them. I do respect the paper as an institution and make it a daily read, but sometimes, some things just have to be said.

Not a VBlog.

Not a VBlog.

Just noticed the past two posts linked into YouTube content. I apologize, but only slightly.

Remember that time when, briefly at least, Mercury Rev and The Flaming Lips were pretty much sonically interchangeable?

Remember that time when, briefly at least, Mercury Rev and The Flaming Lips were pretty much sonically interchangeable?

This was also know as the "loud as hell" era, even though both bands took a turn, with vaying results, into the orch-pop badlands a few years later. I still fucking love this song ... it make me think of Schifeling and Mindy. Having sex with one and smelling the cooking of the other (erm, actions reversed from initial introduction of names). Simpler times. Back when I could actually live on $80 a week ... when now if I spend under $80 a night it's because I'm home before 9 p.m.


Credz Jess for rediscovering the video awesomeness above

Chain-chain-change.

Chain-chain-change.

Yeah, when I was younger, that's what I thought Aretha was actually saying. Anyway, her at Tankboy HQ there's a lot of stuff shifting and realigning. Some of it's scary, some of it makes us sad, some of it is exciting, but we suspect all of it will be for the better. While we work on things under the hood, why don't you pay attention to a situation that actually has grave consequences on 98.765% of Americans' daily live ... the writer's strike.*


*Again, primarily Sarah and Laura, we writer for the internerd, and are not allowed to join the picket lines. One day we shall unionize though ... one day!

Thursday, November 08, 2007

Won't you rock and/or roll with me (and a few bands)?

Won't you rock and/or roll with me (and a few bands)?

Yes, I will be representing The Bomb Squad solo-stylee tonight, but don't worry, you won't get bored of me. Why? Well, Liar's Club booked two bands, The Goldstars and The Bama Lamas, that should tear the roof off the room. I'll be DJing before, between, and after the bands so it should be a sonic marriage made in Heaven.

I mean, just try and tell me like this doesn't look like a good time!

Wednesday, November 07, 2007

Positivity.

Positivity.

There's a number of positive events that have just passed or coming up that have served to recharge my mental / emotional batteries. I apologize for redundancy.
  • Not completely sucking at our first show. With the benefit of hindsight, and by reading between people's impressions, I can see that there we came off kind of rough at times, but people still liked us. My biggest surprise is that people favorite songs were two of the newest, "So Make It A Good One" and Drunken Sweethearts."
  • Taking a week off band practice but still playing drums at home. I don't think my body could have taken a full band practice so soon after the show. I was actually feeling kind of like a wuss until $in confessed to me that he too was pretty sore from playing Saturday night. In practice you play, but it's pretty obvious you hold back. When there's a crowd you throw you're all into it. I'll have to remember that next time so I can pull back a bit; it's kind of like a tattoo artists reminding you that you need to breath while their inking you. You forget the basic things.
  • Sarah has a great interview with BATTLE appearing on Chicagoist today (link forthcoming when the scheduled piece goes live).
  • I preview the new Bill Plympton screening tonight. I hadn't planned on going, but after writing about it I really want to go! Wonder if I can score some passes ... (link forthcoming when the scheduled piece goes live)
  • We head to Michigan this weekend and it's too cold to really do yardwork anymore. That means that my pile of The New Yorker magazines that has been piling up may finally get read. It's amazing how much reading I can get done when there's no internet access. In fact, it's amazing how much writing I get done too!
  • I was told yesterday that my Time Out Chicago piece on local clubs has proven relatively popular, with quite a few readers, and this make me happy. The only gripe I've gotten about the piece, that totally surprises me, is the fact I didn't include Karma. I find this funny because I thought I was one of the few to actually go to Karma while it was open, but now I'm realizing that it's one of those clubs that meant a particular thing to a particular group of people. That's cool.
  • I'm going to an off-site conference for work tomorrow which means a) the possibility of learning new things to help me approach my job in new ways is high and b) the workweek will seem shorter because I'm out of the office doing something new for a day. Both of these things make me very happy.
  • Even though I'm DJing solo, and before, between, and after bands at Liar's Club tomorrow -- which is usually something I'm not to fond of since I usually have never heard of the bands and have no idea what to expect -- I'm at least familiar with and enjoy one of the bands playing, The Goldstars, so it should be a fun night.
  • I'm about to have my first cup of coffee.
  • And this image of Dan looking hot, Amy looking bemused, Gina looking goofy and Scott, well, um, looking about as sweaty as I do behind the kit.

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

Rocktober almost killed me.

Rocktober almost killed me.

Seriously, it did. Actually I'm sitting here struggling to find anything of worth to share with you. Ah, do you like The Annuals, Manchester Orchestra, and / or The Never? We're running a contest at Chicagoist to win tickets to tonight's show, but you have to enter before 11 a.m. C.S.T. ... so hurry!

My DJ schedule has slowed to a reasonable pace once again, so that means more time spent listening to new music, instead of picking through stuff I already know to play as the next track during a set. There's one Mark Lanegan collaboration I'm really digging, and I'm still trying to figure out if I enjoy the two dozen-plus Dylan covers of I'm Not There. I enjoyed the new Minipop upon first listen, but ain't sure whether it's holding up under repeated listens or drowning in its own orch-tweeness. I was really digging the new Fiery Furnaces one from beginning to end, but now realize it's time to cull a few tracks that upon first listen were interesting, but upon fifth or sixth just become grating.

Actually, there's an interesting question; when you load music onto a digital player (of any sort) to you edit to disc to excises songs you don't like, or do you keep the album intact out of respect for what you believe to be the artist's wishes?

NOTE: The picture in the upper right of this post of my pal Jesse has nothing to do with anything here, but click on it and groove on his massive mustache-chops combo! I kept asking him if he was running for president in 1836.

Monday, November 05, 2007

Still oh so sore.

Still oh so sore.

Well, America's #1 Sweetheart got our first show out of the way.


For a first show, I think it went well. Lots and lots of friends showed up to support us, which made me really happy, and everyone seems to like the material, both old and new. We made a few mistakes, but I doubt anyone outside of the band really noticed them. I know I pushed the tempo a little too hard near the beginning of the set as my nerves kicked in. I also must'vebhit harder than I usually do, and since all of my lighter sticks broke in the first 3 songs, I ended up using heavier sticks too. I must've really been throwing my whole body into it, because my hands, arms, and legs are all still sore this morning!

And then the evening devolved into usual rock star shenanigans, not helped at all by the extra hour of partying afforded by the clock change. Let's just say that I'm pretty happy my calendar has lightened up. It'll be nice to spend some more time at home with Photogal and the pups and a little less time in smoky rock clubs.

Friday, November 02, 2007

BOOlington, yo.

BOOlington, yo.

Here are some choice pics from Halloween night. Who's the dork in the DJ booth making all those people dance?

We're doing it again tonight, don't forget!






All pictures by Jeremy Farmer

This week is never going to end, is it?

This week is never going to end, is it?

Tonight, you must stop by The Burlington to see me DJ. It's my last time there in the whole wide month of November. It is an imperative.

And tomorrow?

It's the day you have ALL been waiting for.

It will be the first America's #1 Sweetheart show in 2 years. If you're lucky, you will get to see naked cousins. If you're unlucky you'll walk out humming our insanely catchy songs. Win-win!

Thursday, November 01, 2007

Me + Time Out Chicago.

Me + Time Out Chicago.

The article I wrote for Time Out Chicago about the Chicago club scene is now live. It's weird reading something you wrote that's been pretty heavily edited ... and to an outsider it's probably not even apparent but I can see my voice working alongside Scott's voice and John Dugan's expertise. Let's just say some of the House phrasing is pretty clearly not mine (although I think you'd be surprised at just how much of it is), but the rocker club stuff is.

It should be noted, though, that I've never heard Glass Candy, so I can't endorse them. However Dugan apparently is in love with them. So maybe I should give them a listen ...

Overall I'm pleased with the collaboration, so let me know what you think.