I have this theory that the only songs that can evoke a strong emotional response from me are written in odd meter, most often in 3 or 6. I feel I am falling forward, jumping off a cliff, tumbling down a hill, but with a purpose and a goal. When I am playing drums, this is the most natural rhythm for me to play. Even at a breakneck tempo, my limbs can always keep up. A horse's canter is three beats; it is also the most comfortable for both the rider and the horse. With this rhythm, there is no returning beat, and the constant forward "motion" tells you that there is no coming back.

Susan showed me a picture of her nephew running in a grassy field, blurred just right, and it reminded me of my younger years when I would run down the levee. I felt so much strength in my legs; the only thing keeping me from going faster was consideration for my family. I believed that if I kept running faster, I would break the space-time continuum (I guess I got this from Back to the Future or perhaps Jonathan Livingston Seagull) and I would end up in another dimension.

I remember seeing this band City of Caterpillar at the ARK a few years ago, watching the band play behind a massive white sheet with spotlights set up so that the member's shadows were cast onto the sheet. The perspective was random and pre-determined; three or four dimensions were compressed into two. As the audience and the silhouettes swayed to the rising waltz, the lack of control became tangible. Is this is a concert? Are they a band? Are we an audience? The detachment from convention was otherworldly.

With a crash, the guitarist's amp head toppled from the stage onto the concrete floor. The lights were switched off, the curtain furled, the band revealed. With a sad relief, I watched them smash their wine bottles into a barrel. 1 and 2 and 3 and 4...
link to this post   11:00 AM by Trey | (0)
As I was walking to my car tonight, not 15 minutes ago, in the French Quarter, a group of guys and couple girls were walking slightly in front of me. One of the guys branched off from the group, picked up a half-empty bottle from the sidewalk and lobbed it at a homeless man sleeping on a bench in front of Canal Place. He did this with the same leisure that a person might throw a stone into the water while crossing a river. His friend picked up a go cup and chucked it at the same man. The other people in the group didn't bat an eye, and actually seemed to think it was funny. I felt my pace quicken and my muscles tense as the initial flood of adrenaline hit my blood stream. I walked up behind the first guy and tapped his shoulder.

"That was a pretty shitty thing to do, dontcha think?"
(he mumbles to himself, shifts eyes rapidly) "Hey man, I work every day, and pay taxes so that I can feed people like that..."
"So what, you think you're better than him? You think you're entitled to abusing him. You don't know what he's been through!"

By this point, I had a circle of rednecks around me. From what I gathered, they all supported throwing trash at the homeless. I had a zen moment, and several scenarios flashed through my head, from trying to reason with these people to dealing out bloody retribution. I looked up and saw faces staring at me, waiting for a response.
link to this post   4:26 AM by Trey | (1)
This girl that I work with asked me to make a mix CD for the aerobics class that she teaches. I guess she "trusts my taste in music" or something. I think she has no idea what is about to hit her. If she ends up using this CD, I think it will be the best aerobics class ever. Fuck, I break into aerobics INVOLUNTARILY whenever these songs come on, so I can't even imagine what people who are motivated to work out will do.

It's kind of a difficult CD to make; usually I start mix CDs with an impression of the person's life and their tastes, and my emotions toward the recipient tend to manifest themselves in the track list. My primary motivation with this CD is to keep the BPM around 125 and the rhythm danceable. I have to resist the temptation to play my usual "rock 'em out, then bring 'em down" gimic, because that will result in a premature cool down and possible muscle cramps. I must avoid the really edgy stuff so that they don't get offended and leave, yet I've got to vary the tone of the music enough so that the narrative quality of the mix has a chance to develop. By the end, the paricipant will be physically and emotionally exhausted, but will be asking for a copy of the CD.

MC Lanky Slim, in the house.
link to this post   11:39 AM by Trey | (0)
On my last day in San Francisco, Sonia and I climbed down this cliff in the Presidio Park by the Golden Gate bridge. We walked around on the beach, basking in the sun, surf, and sand. I kept babbling something about discovering an ancient civilization.

Then we walked around downtown and North Beach for a while. The restaurant we wanted to eat at was closed, so we ate some tourists and quenched our thirsts.

We returned to North Beach to settle some secret mafia business. On the way there, we had to pass through Chinatown, and we had to fight like 40 or 200 martial artists.

Sonia won $20,000 on scratch off tickets, so we headed to Amoeba to spend it all. We bought a CD from every band in existence, and we thought we were set, but 20 bands formed while we in the store and all released albums. We were almost out of money, so we bought them all tacos. This panhandler asked us if we had any change, and we gave him the "no bro" and dumped all these benjamins on his head. He was like, "I don't eat tuna..."

That statement got us pretty hungry, so we jumped in the car and headed over to Berkeley. We had spent all our money except $16, and our overseas checking accounts had been siezed. As luck would have it, we ran into my old friend Tommy from PROMIS and Orleans Parish. We checked into the most exclusive restaurant for miles: Zachary's Pizza and ordered 20 lbs of spinach, tomatoes, and mushrooms that somehow fit into a 14" radius. The Oakland/Berkeley Laser Light show followed:

After a terrifying and twisted right through the foggy quagmire that is Berkeley at night, we said goodnight. Sonia and I made it back into the city, and were about to go to sleep when we passed by our favorite Western Themed gay bar: STUD. The night had just begun...
link to this post   2:51 PM by Trey | (0)
I got myself in a lot of trouble yesterday. After my parents picked me up from the airport yesterday, I was looking for some items in my old bedroom at their house. I found this old rubber band gun that I had gotten as a Christmas present as a kid. I decided to bring it home with me, so I had it up in the front seat of my car. I was planning on using to make threatening gestures while singing along to gangster rap songs (but in a totally non-threatening way)

My co-workers made fun of me at lunch when they saw my piece (of wood), yet they got all quiet when I used it to merge onto the expressway effortlessly.

When this asshole cut me off at the Superdome exit, I took vengeance on him by mercilessly pumping round after round of hot rubber bands into my windshield.

Anyway, I was hitting up the late night Rally's drive-thru in my Volvo sedan. I ordered a Big Buford. No combo. Just the sandwhich. $2.51. I have the change, let me get it. GASP. SLAM. I turn around and see the drive-thru window lady scurry away from the window. About thirty seconds pass and another dude (the manager?) pokes his head around the fry machine and sees me looking quizically for some resolution for my Big Buford satisfaction. He approaches cautiously, peers into my car and asks me, "Is that a wooden gun?" Realization hits, and I grab for my piece and point it at his head and scream, "AND WHAT?"

Not really, but I did try to explain that it was a harmless rubber band gun. He tossed the Buford through the open window into my lap.
On a gangster related note, I watched this late 70's movie called The Warriors when I was in San Francisco. It was basically about all these street gangs in NYC that were having this big meeting when the leader/prophet is assassinated, and the Coney Island Warriors are blamed. All the gangs are set out to kill the Warriors. There are mime gangs, pimp gangs, baseball clown gangs, and roller skating farmerboy gangs all trying to kill these dudes. It was riveting, but at the same time totally ridiculous. I really got into it.
link to this post   10:26 AM by Trey | (7)
When the guy from Xiu Xiu sang, "Je t'aime the valley, je t'aime the valley, OHH!" I tried to scream the "OH!" part at the same time, but instead, he screamed it so loud that it shocked me and my sound came out as more of a growl than a scream. I think I frightened some of the hipsters standing next to me.

I want to start listing HOB/Parish shows on the NOLADIY site, but I think I will meet strong resistance from my partner, who is 100 times more DIY than myself. I'm not kidding myself. I have to clarify the central focus of the site:

A) To unite New Orleans as a DIY community
B) To provide a listing of local punk/metal/indie concerts, and any other DIY events

"A" is a righteous goal, but it struggles, and it will always be strugglin'. I think that we do a good job of "B" under the conditions, but it is not a unique goal. I think that the site needs a major redesign and people should be able to get the information effortlessly. I need to finish the code that allows promoters to update their own shows. We need to get a better message board/forum. NOLADIY radio?

There is nothing more annoying that these people that send me their shows with EVERYTHING TYPED IN CAPITAL LETTERS. Fuck em. I'm just going to start making everything lowercase no matter what. Emo.

On my flight from San Francisco yesterday, I watched as 90% of the seats on the plane were occupied by a seemingly endless stream of little old Chinese ladies. Some tour group I suppose. They packed and crowded around me in a way that was simultaneously irritating and adorable. When I stood up from my exit row seat to retrieve a book from the overhead bin, reaching my full height of of 6'8", they gasped in wonder (or horror!). When I fell asleep on my foldable tray table, they chatted unrelentlessly as a puddle of drool formed under my right cheek.

For the next few days, it's going to be easy. I'm not going to worry about it. Sometimes the most you can do is just hold your liquor and try not to develop too big of a crush on your bartender.
link to this post   2:24 PM by Trey | (0)
I saw the Album Leaf at Cafe du Nord last night. Although I have spent a healthy amount of time in San Francisco, I really never went to many shows here. Even when I was living in the city, and Melissa and Sonia and I were always looking for stuff to do, we went to very few. I'm just happy that I was able to finally go to a good show in this city.

I'm fuming right now. By the way. Still fuming.
link to this post   2:05 PM by Trey | (3)
I went to high school with you. Dude brah, we should reunite one day.

I am going to be in San Francisco for the next week. So is Sonia and Bobby and Tommy.

Sometimes the most pitiful human beings have the most condescending personalities.

I am sweating my penis off.

All art scenes are pretentious; to discuss and show art is soaked with natural pretense.

Gooooooogle has job openings. I want one.

I also want a cell phone shaped like a banana.

I have enabled comments.

What do you think about that?
link to this post   8:24 PM by Trey | (3)
Doom 3 has been consistently scaring the bejeezus out of me for the last few nights. I didn't really know what a bejeezus looked like until one popped out around 11pm the other night when I had the lights out and the headphones on, stalking the hallways of this Mars space station that I am wandering around. A little too realistic...

A swim, day outside, sushi, White Linen night, and the the Ours show. Ingredients for a perfect day. Hopefully the trend will continue for the rest of this weekend. I will be on the West Coast for all of next week, so my first real vacation time in almost two years is about to begin. If anyone in San Francisco wants to go out to eat or go to a show, or pretend we're hippies, yuppies, or panhandlers, give me a call.

By the way, the Ours show was superb. It was in the Parish Room, which is one of my favorite places to see a show (minus the high drink prices), and we managed to secure these cool sofas that the club had set up about midway back from the stage. The first half of the show was the slower, more ethereal songs. The audience was reverently silent, relishing the spooky clarity of Gnecco's voice. The band was backlit by these blue lights that shone through the audience, giving the venue a very otherworldly appearence. I sat with my head tilted back, absorbing it all, visioning the band playing just for me in this chapel-like venue. Kind of like a goth Rufus Wainright or Jeff Buckley.

Just as I came out of my trance, they jumped into Fallen Souls. It was a perfect live sound, with the singer's impressive vocals and acoustic guitar mixed high, and the double floor toms pounding in my chest. From here to the end, they rocked their louder, epic songs. Whenever Jimmy went into one of his "howl from beyond" moments, I my eyeballs started shaking, as though he was hitting a resonant frequency in my optic nerve, with the requisite shivers.

Not that I haven't seen some incredible shows in the last few years, but I don't think I've been "transported" like that since I saw Tori Amos at the Orpheum in 2001, and Melissa got jealous because I was gazing at the stage, transfixed so intently and awe-struck by the beauty of it all.
link to this post   2:35 AM by Trey | (2)
I'm becoming a bigger fan of the whole Apple Computers enterprise every day. I've had an iPod for almost three years now, and it's become such an enriching companion to my music needs that I'm on my third model. Not because they have crapped out on me; they have moved on to friends and co-workers, who (as far as I know) are still using them.

I've always considered Apple to be a company focused on creating products that did one thing and did it well. Or did it the best. Take the iPod. It is the best portable music player because it uncompromisingly focuses on being the best portable music player, and that is ALL. I used Macs in the past because they were the best for editing media, whether it be desktop publishing, screen/print/motion graphics, or digital video.

However, I picked up the new Airport Express (they have them at CompUSA if you don't feel like waiting 2 weeks for one), and this gadget does EVERYTHING. It's not like I needed one feature and the other are all kind of neat, but unnecessary. I needed to share a USB printer remotely, I needed to be able to play my iTunes library through my stereo (wirelessly), and I needed an wireless access point in my living room with a strong signal. Nice job.

Also, I'm now using the Mac OS X platform primarily, after replacing my Windows/Linux workstation with a new Powermac. I'm not going to pretend that it was a revolutionary experience, but the ease with which I migrated all my development and creative applications and started using the OS for every task speaks well of the whole user experience issue which the company prides themselves.
link to this post   8:14 AM by Trey | (0)