This Has To End At Some Point

I like the way I look with a beard. I don't want to shave it off, but it's starting to scare me. It's become like... bed-face. All the time. Today I looked in the mirror and thought "where am I going with this?"

I'm feeling a strong impulse to trim it right now.

Pretty Girls

Every word out of my mouth today seemed to be a word of dorkiness. So let's end the day off with a real doozie, shall we?

There are a lot of beautiful women in this world, and I can tell you I know several of them personally. I don't know what exactly makes a woman beautiful, but I do know this: the easier it is for me to have a conversation with her, the more beautiful she becomes.

Guided By Voices

So I'm putting a bunch of my stuff into storage today, and I needed some good music for " hard workin' ". I ended up settling on what I listen to almost every day, and have for months. Under The Bushes Under The Stars.

There have been few albums in my life that have truly blown my mind. Many have impressed me, but I'm talking about something beyond that. Metallica's Ride The Lightning did it when I was twelve; Slayer's Reign In Blood did a few years later. First Ramones album... My Bloody Valentine - Loveless... Dressy Bessy - Pink Hearts Yellow Moons... maybe a few others, including this one.

It's the best kind of old-fogey rock... kind of sluggish, like they're stuck on a giant couch with their instruments... yet, with the hook-writing ability of people who have seen a lot, heard a lot and done their homework. Sloppy and effortless, yet somehow perfect. It makes me feel very good about being an aging slacker myself.

I got into GBV after hearing Teenage FBI on the radio when I lived out west, so I missed their prime period. I could never have liked Bushes...Stars in 1996. It wouldn't have been "punk" enough. Now, I can identify with it.

Bleak

That was a bleak note to end on, but there's nothing more I could add. That said, I think something good can be taken from the experience. It makes me think about class hierarchies in society... not that I don't already think about it.

I think of times I've been asked for money on the street. I don't often give anybody money, but I wouldn't say I never do. I certainly don't disrespect somebody who asks unless they're disrespectful first, which I find rare.

I don't like to see human beings forced to degrade themselves. Yet, the problem of poverty is so large, I really don't know what I can do as an individual. One very minor (arguably meaningless) thing I do is separate my money-recyclables from no-money-recyclables when I put them on the side of the road. It makes me sad to see people rooting through blue bags for pop cans, etc. I put them in their own bag so someone could just pick them up and go.

Maybe you're rolling your eyes now or making gestures of sarcastic approval. I don't think you can just give people money all the time. Is there an acceptable ratio of "sorry" to "here you go"? I never seem to be in a good mood after a stranger asks me to do something, which doesn't help. But as much as I can get irritated in those situations, I know that every person has a different story. I try very hard not to judge, much less mock.

Sometimes people at my work complain about the job, particularly the money. I think that's an absurd complaint, as long as there are people who have to dig cans out of blue bags to survive. I know it could have been me just as easily as it could have been anyone else.

Maybe a middle-class guy has no credibility discussing this topic.

Saturday Night

Saturday nights... SP and The1"P on college radio. Although I've missed a lot of Saturday night gigs over the past ten years, I can think of no better way to keep myself out of trouble. I've had a lot of hosts do the show before mine, but it's only been since Ube (and later, Tobe) took over that I've really been friends with the 10:30-midnight host. All manners of horsing around have taken place:

http://www.zippyvideos.com/5915715502725346/uber_parties_hard/*gilbertswitzer]uberpartieshard.avi

Every now and then I like the surprise the SP guys and pick up a pizza on the way to the station. We'll flake out in the lobby and eat while T'n'T trade off at the console. All three of us love the station and treat it with respect, yet sometimes I feel like a little kid left home by myself for the first time. "Hey guys, let's get really crazy....and get a pizza!". Plus, it's fun to surprise friends with little presents sometimes. So last night, I did.

I often have a lot of records and CDs with me, so I try to get to there before they shut the elevators off. I had plenty of time last night, but a big social event had just finished, and the entire first floor was shoulder-to shoulder with formally-dressed people. And what's worse, the coat check tables were blocking the elevators. Great.

I don't like big crowds at all, and my regular-joe clothing really made me stand out in this one. I guess I could have turned around, left the building and re-entered through the basement, taking the stairs to the fourth floor. But the elevators were right there and I knew they were still on.

I attempted to navigate my way through the crowd, carrying this big bag of records and a large pizza. This was difficult, and I wanted it to be over quickly. I stayed polite with everyone. No shoving, and I always excused myself. But the longer I was stuck in there, the more I just wanted to get out. I'm not particularly good at hiding emotions, so I'm sure this was obvious to people around me.

Then this chump in a suit says to me "30 minutes, or it's free".

Huh?

Oh, I get it. Let's poke fun at the pizza delivery guy. Look at him in his cheap clothes, fighting to meet his deadline so the boss doesn't take is $6.80 an hour away. Hee hee! Look at him try and scurry through the crowd! Go lil' guy, go!



You're a classist, elitist piece of shit. Go fucking kill yourself.

The Guest List

Friend: "Hey man, I'm short on cash. Can you put me on the guest list?"

Me: "Sigh. Ok."

You may be thinking "don't be such a cheapskate", but that's not what this is about. I could care less about somebody's five dollars. I've always disliked the concept of the "guest list" because I find it promotes elitism. If you're a friend of the band with no money, you get in. If you don't know the band but want to see them, and have no money, you don't get in. Whether or not you get to see the show is determined by who you are friends with.

As I've gotten older and played more and more shows, I've softened my opinion. You just can't avoid making deals like these, even in a supposedly egalitarian setting. In the past I was rarely asked this question, and if I was I'd refer the person to someone else in the band. I think of myself when I first started going to shows; it seemed like everyone knew everyone else, and I didn't know anybody. It all looked like a clique to me, which I had somehow come to believe that punk rock was against. In retrospect, I could have just been more sociable and reaped whatever benefits that might have generated, but I wasn't that kind of person then. That's another discussion.

I still think it's a little greasy to ask to be on the guest list without offering to do anything like selling merch or hauling gear or whatever. I feel like I'm in some old-boys network. I hate that crap.

Someone once pointed out to me that it's better to let your friend in for free than to play to no one. I guess this is true. My bands almost never play to packed houses. I suppose I've accepted the guest list somewhere along the line. I've got to admit, if one of my friends' bands is playing with a whole bunch of shitty bands I hate, I'm not above trying to use this priviledge.

So the moral of this story is, alternately:

Young Me: If you're in the position to help others, never help out your friends unless you also help out an equal number of strangers. Otherwise, you support an elitist hierarchy and are very un-punk.

Old Me: Help out whoever asks. Or something.

What an unfocused post!

It Takes All Kinds

Today at work we watched a presentation on forensics by a doctor from here who trained in a large American city. There were all sorts of bizarre and grisly stories, images and statistics. He talked about an autopsy on someone where they found (inside the person's digestive tract) no less than 63 drug filled condoms. Jesus.

Who Would Win An Arm Wrestle?

Romance? Or pragmatism?

(shut up, Ash....SHUT UP!!)

I Need A Vacation

I'm reapproaching the December 2005 mindset. Lack of time to myself is wearing me out. Last week we talked about doing a RF$ tonight. As of the end of Saturday, no one had come forward with a set plan on what to do. With the event only one day away, I figured it was a write-off, and planned on a quiet Sunday night. I was surprised to learn that the idea hadn't been given up, and that we'd have to come up with something the night before. Which I was happy to do; we need money for the tour. Yet at the same time, losing that night by myself was profoundly depressing. All I wanted to do yesterday afternoon was drink, but it ended up I couldn't. Today that feeling was twice as strong, and I can't do it tonight either (hauling gear with car) or tomorrow (practice) or Thursday (more practice).

Maybe this is good. I've done very well sticking to my new years' resolution of not drinking by myself anymore. It so happens that's all I want to do right now, and circumstances are preventing it. Maybe by Wednesday I won't feel this way.

This isn't the only symptom that something is wrong. My eating habits have been brutal lately. Just like December. No will to cook, buy groceries or clean the apartment (which the landlord will be showing to people in a week and a half). Just like December. But I can't blame it on relationship problems this time.

I hate complainy blog entries. I admire people who are stoic and never complain about anything. Or at least do so in a private forum. So, I guess I've kind of dropped the ball on that.

On the bright side of things, I got through work today without getting a single headache! And no coffee, either.

Speaking From The Pompitous Of Love

Love. We use this word from time to time, but what does it mean? Perhaps no one can say for sure. I'm going to take a few moments to speculate on it anyway, using the following metaphorical story.

Dating is like getting a present on Christmas day, or maybe your birthday. But the catch is, the powers that be have a strange sense of humor. Sometimes you unwrap the thing and there's nothing but a lump of coal, or an ill-fitting sweater some obscure aunt thought you might like. Or nothing at all.

Sometimes you open the box and there's a present inside. A good present! Something you've always wanted. Something shiny and bright that you saw in TV commercials but never thought anyone would get you. You take the present out, and it's the centre of your world for days. It's all you think about, all you want.

But as often happens with popular toys, the shine can wear off quickly. You wake up one morning and realize the thing is in the corner of your room collecting dust... and that's all there was in the package you opened. You're done.

Here's a true story: one Christmas I got something from my aunt that seemed really hokey at the time. It was a little toolbox (maybe 5X7") shaped like a Volkswagen bug. It had a handle on top, and if you put in batteries, you can even use it as a flashlight!

Now, this came from someone notorious for giving ugly or impractical gifts. I laughed it off at first... "Oh god, not another piece of junk from her". It looked nice though. Kind of cute. I kept it where I could see it. I figured it was a conversation piece, if nothing else.

Over time, I started to see the value of this awesome little car. I'm not much of a handyman, so this is basically all the tools I have. It's helped me repair guitars, household appliances... all kinds of things. It was my only non-candle light source during the week of White Juan (big winter storm).

I'm looking down at the toolbox now, and I think it's one of the most awesome Christmas presents I've ever received, surpassing even the mini-Galaxian I got when I was nine.

Galaxian is long gone, but I still use those pliers, screwdrivers, allen keys and adjustable wrench on a regular basis. And I probably always will. It's transcended both its initial goofy cuteness AND its long-term practicality to become something I have a certain attatchment to.

THAT is love.

Now go get it.

I Feel The Need To Say This

Halifax artists I enjoy most live... they include, but are not limited to:

The Hold
AttackMode
Le Coque et les Phoques
BA Johnston
Friends Of The Red Army Faction

Wow

Wow! What a fun night. Best One World show GS have played. BB finally had un-muddy sound, though it felt like we spun our tires a little at the beginning. Amy and I attempted to record (*ahem*) the Clam & the Seals in their first ever non-open mic/party show. It was rushed and I fucked it up a little, plus the ol' analogue four track is on its last legs. This is a damn shame because they absolutely threw down. I'll save the listening until I'm more awake.

In the meantime, watch this video. They don't make 'em like that anymore. Good pop tune as well.

http://www.papasfritas.com/video/afterall.mpg

Absent

Busy week... I may be out of the loop for a bit. I have a lot to do and I'm up an hour earlier all week. Got to stay mentally healthy.

Sleep

Lack of it fucks up my moods. It gives me wild ups and downs. Opposite emotions sitting next to each other in my brain. It might be useful for me to not post crazy talk under such unnaturally stressing circumstances.

If We Were Beatles

I don't know enough about the Beatles' personalities to speculate on this. But if GS were the Ramones, it would be easy. Uber would be Joey, Poison would be Dee Dee and I'd be Johnny. There are definite personality matches going on there. I'm not "right wing" like Johnny I guess. And I hope Poison doesn't leave the world the way Dee Dee did. Nevertheless, I think there's something to this concept.

Fun In Towns Big And Small

It's not very often I come home from a GS show feeling unhappy about how it went, and last night was no exception. It was a long, epic show with many bands. We were there for about 7 of them, and there were more before and after. The venue was a hall that held about 500 people. At most, there were a little over a hundred kids there, but the size of the audience ebbed and flowed considerably. I think a lot of people were mainly there to see their friends' bands, which is understandable. With so much happening there's a tendency to pick and choose.

We were hampered early on by drumstick issues and some sound problems. We had to communicate visually more than we're used to. By the end I think we'd smoothed out the kinks. A lot of people left before we played, but not many during the set. They enjoyed the freakshow, if nothing else.

People were generally very nice to us, but I think we'll always be a tough sell in a really small place. Scream-metal was the lingua franca in this town of 3 295 (Wikipedia). It was also a pretty young crowd who have not likely been exposed to more "underground" forms of punk rock, and haven't yet had the chance for their tastes to evolve anyway. Amused curiosity is the most a band like us can ask for under the circumstances. I think we got that.

We probably didn't give them the show we could have. Uber's mic cable was shorter than usual, and that has an effect on things. I took off with the floor tom at the end of the set, mounted it on a riser where some parents were sitting, and finished out the song. The parents didn't even make eye contact with me. We must be doing something right.

A Recap Of The Week's Events

My computer went on a repair-shop retreat this week. Kind of like a person spending a few days at a remote spa. Meanwhile, I enjoyed two nights of 8+ hours' sleep, thoroughly cleaned my apartment and even watched some television. Maybe one night this week I'll give my computer $20 and send it to the movies.

Last Wednesday: BB played somewhere too big to accomodate our friend base and too small to handle our massive rock power.

Tonight: GS goes Merseybeat - live in Liverpool.

Ringo was my favourite Beatle.

Self Abuse

Getting back to the post about stress and carnivorism...

After the day-long recording session on Thursday I felt pretty spent. Physically and mentally. In this fatigued state, I got it into my head that I should eat something really decadent. So on the way back from Darkside I decide to get a donair from this notorious pizza place. They reportedly have one that weighs 2.5 kilos.

My eyes were very wide and I wasn't thinking clearly. I ordered the "super". I have to say, this object was just ridiculous. It was as big as a football and about twice as heavy. Even though I was very hungry, I could only eat about a fifth of it. In the end, it took me no less than five tries to consume the whole thing. Having eaten all of the cheese early in the going, I refreshed it with some of my own. I had to do this twice.

I thought about throwing it out... several times. Even though I stopped enjoying it part way through the second session, I felt bound by some weird duty to finish. I just can't leave a task half-done, no matter how unpleasant.

I feel gross. The thing wasn't even any good. It's not satisfying to me on any level. I feel like a little kid getting punished for smoking cigarettes by being forced to smoke a whole pack at once.

...whatever that feels like.

Rock And Roll Negativity

Who needs it? There are bands out there I don't like, but I have no malice toward them. Likewise, I don't sweat it much when people say bad stuff about my bands. At my age, I'd feel very silly participating in that sort of exchange. Some stuff is best ignored. Life's too short.

To Be Or Not To Be

To be or not to be vegetarian. Am I or aren't I? I guess I'm not. I used to be. I think it's a good idea, for reasons that would be redundant to document here. In fact, there's really nothing about it I have to comment on, except that I've noticed lately that I become a carnivore when I'm very busy or placed under stress for long periods of time. Otherwise, given a relaxed environment it's not something I'm into. Weird. Isn't that pattern a little similar to substance abuse? I think I just feel entitled to decandence if I'm having a rough time with something. Late last year when I was having major relationship troubles, I drank constantly. Those problems are behind me, and last week's road trip was only my second time drinking in 2006.

Abusive drinking habits can be subtle. I've never felt like I wasn't going to make it through the day without a drink. That said, I've had a lot of times (eg, right now) where I've thought to myself "I don't have to drive anywhere... not working... no plans... I must get drunk immediately". This is where I was last December. I found it was stopping me from getting anything done. I couldn't communicate with people properly, and I couldn't change my plans at the last minute if driving was involved. Thus, a little bit of freedom was lost. I just felt useless. Drunk by myself.

So I decided not to do that anymore. I find drinking fun, but unless it's social it depresses the hell out of me. That doesn't make it any less tempting though.

On The Island, At The Fest

I'm not going to post show reviews here, but I will throw out some general impressions.

Last weekend was a blast! BB/GS road trips are the purest form of entertainment imaginable. If cable ten starts running R-rated DIY reality shows, we should think about putting one together.

The GS posse made the ~4 hour trip on Friday in a partial blizzard. There were windshield wiper issues, ie only having one, and it eventually falling off. A good samaritan helped us TCB and get back on the road. Ah, Nova Scotia!

We played a bar show; same town as my Feb 4 entry, but a different bar. The crowd was also different; more middle aged people (which is fine... ageism sucks), maybe more jock-dude types. We still had a small core of supporters, so it was not unlike the last time we were there.

I drank for this show. We were on last, and the wait was really killing me. I had the option of not driving anywhere afterwards, and I used it. This was only the third time in my 15 years of playing shows that I'd played drunk. All three times were with GS.

The set went pretty well, none of us were incapacitated. Ube's vocals kept cutting out at the end, which was a mystery to us. It's hard to lose one member even for a second, because the sound is so bare-bones. Although the bar had been packed at one point, there were a lot fewer people there when we were done. I kind of assumed we'd driven them all away, but that may not have been the case. We started very late, close to 2am. I could review this show in almost the same words as last time... few crazies up front, room seemed to empty... staff didn't like us at all. Ube stood on the monitor! Ummmm! #rubs one index finger over the other#

All the bands on the bill sounded fine, but stylistically we were severely fending for ourselves. The organizers of this event probably had difficulty finding a show for us. I think that's good though... makes for a diverse festival. You just have to hope enough people get it. 15-20 is probably "enough". Of course, 200 would have been great!

My hat is off to the gentleman and two ladies that got us on this fest. They totally understand what we do. These folks took a considerable chance giving us a bar show period, never mind a headlining spot. That meant a lot. Big ups to BD, GM and KB. Hope to see you at N X N End!

But our story doesn't end there. We went back to the house of rock afterward, and continued to engage in drinking and conversation. I totally made an ass of myself. I find weird things funny. Hopefully no one there thought I was psycho.

Next up was an all ages show on Saturday afternoon. The venue was large, a church hall nearly the size of a basketball court. The stage had to be five feet high. A decision was made to play on the floor.

BB was on this bill too; I like playing with both bands at one show, and I don't like it. It's great to have the extended family around, but that's a lot of rockin' for me to do. I'm not gonna just stand there to conserve energy for the next set. I asked the organizers if there was any way a band could play between BB and GS. It seemed like this was a go.

BB played one of our most fun sets ever. There were maybe 30 ish kids there (there was a lot going on that weekend). We had all kinds of room to run around on the floor. I started the set on a pissed-off note because I had just discovered that I'd drunkenly lost an important/expensive adapter the night before. Little things really set me off. Big things just seem to bounce off me. It's weird. But yeah... I was ready to go smash stuff with a bat. That's how I get. I never actually do anything bad, but people seem to get freaked out when I'm like that. Folks, that's just how I am. My idea of anger management is not doing anything that'll land me in jail. That means talking a little crazy talk sometimes.

I'm off topic. The set went really well, despite a few technical difficulties. No one complained about the spacebeam this time (as if I care). It was fun strutting around and doing silly poses. The other guys in the band played in their underwear. I'm too self conscious to do that, so I wore a dress instead. Did I mention this was a church hall? Muhahahaha.....

After an extended period of no bands playing, I approached one of the organizers about the band order. It turned out GS were supposed to go on next after all. I was a little ticked at the time, but organizing a whole weekend of multiple shows is not an easy thing to do, especially with people like me playing in more than one band. So no harm done, and no hard feelings. I was very glad to be playing that show at all.

The delay knocked a little wind out of the show's sails, but there were still a decent number of kids there by the time we started to play. The vast space that had benefitted BB seemed to work against us at first. We play best in a small space. Ube and our friends in the audience seemed to sense this, and took action. There was group busting and a lot of manic dancing. Mind you, not this manic:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s7eUGsB9VY0

...but you get the idea. I want every GS show to be as nuts as that video. Costumes and dancing.

Unfortunately, the earlier delay had cut into our set and we could not finish. So, as Poison and Uber lay in their customary post-set heap, T. America and I grabbed the floor tom and raced around the room playing it. We were in a full sprint at one point... it was insane! Maybe GS should play at the Friendship Center sometime. It would be fun to run around.

Anyway, a swell weekend. Thanks to KM for an awesome time and some dutiful work behind the merch table! And to everyone who took pictures of us. We're so vain.

What's Liverpool going to be like?

On The Other Record

GS/the H test pressings are in. Maybe today won't be a day off after all. I find it very satisfying to hear my bands' music on vinyl. Will we be able to sell these things? I don't know. Let's hope.

On The Record

Week three of non-stop band activity is winding down. There's so much trouble to cause and so little time. I definitely need some kind of vacation, and today I think I'm getting one. One day is probably enough anyway.

Yesterday, BB engaged in a day-long recording session at an amazing studio hidden in the woods at the start of the Eastern Shore. We completed music for four songs and vocals for three. Two of these will be going on a split 7" with A-Mode to be released in a couple of months: the one with the speed metal picking and Ramones beat in the middle, and the one with the harmonizing guitar solo.

Friends of BB, hear me now: you are going to hear the band as we've never sounded before. This is as professional recording as we could possibly have asked for. Everything is clear and pristine. The vocals remind me of Hootenanny-era Paul Westerberg, even though T. America has no idea what I'm talking about with that. Imagine "Run It", "You Lose" or "Hayday", but more pissed off. The whole thing just sounds ridiculously goddamn good. Wow.

To the hataz: we don't just play noise (that's B-Dick). Maybe this record will clarify that fact.

My mind is blown by yesterday's recording.