Oceanic

THE GOOD

• Isis - I guess this band could be called jazz, in a sense. I find it strangely soothing, even though you could call it metal. I don't know what it is, but I like it. Like Slint's heavy metal cousin. I'm sure someone out there classifies it as 'post-something', like post-metal or post-hardcore.
• Corporate ass-kissing - no, I'm not the one bendin' over, my company takes out clients on these events like last night where we took out a bunch of 'em to Comerica Park for a Tigers game. Two suites, tons of food, wine, beer, liquor, and it was all on the company dime. I'm lovin' it.
• A slight sense of job security - I thought I had things to worry about, but now I know that one of our biggest contracts depends on my office staying right here. I have seniority and therefore, security. Dog bless the Big 3, for I am their bitch.
• The Zombies - at first, when I was young, I was all about the Monkees, Beatles, and Beach Boys. I felt that these bands were benchmarks in a way. They were icons for me because I quickly found that even their outtakes and demos were amazing. Along the way, I've found other bands like this. The Troggs, The Kinks, and Pink Floyd (Syd Barrett era mainly) are like this for me. Now I have found yet another. The Zombies. These guys were so overlooked and underrated. It goes much, much deeper than "The Time of the Season," people.
• Will Self - modern British author. Lots of words I've never heard of (but now know well), British street thug and drug slang, William Burroughs worship (in Self's early work), Hunter S. Thompson style (in his more recent work), and sharp wit. Good stuff. I'm obsessed.
• Cephalopod fans - you never know who you'll meet when you're not looking for them.
• New and unexpected friends - like I just said...

THE BAD

• Petroleum Hydrocarbon - aka "Blow Off." We us this canned-air stuff in the office to clean computers, keyboards, and tape decks. Smells like, well I don't know what it smells like, but I don't like it, and when I breathe in it, my tongue burns. Nasty. Somewhere, some kid is spraying it into a rag and inhaling and getting realllllly high, but not me, this shit is awful.
• Smoking - just in the past seven days, I've smoked Kool Milds (because they were free), American Spirit Lights, Camel Lights, American Spirit Mediums, Basic Menthol Lights, and American Spirit Organic (because they were given to me by accident). I hate that I smoke, yet I have no real interest in quitting. I like to smoke.
• Fucking Post It notes - A meme that needs to die a horrible painful death.

THE UGLY

• Kwame Kilpatrick - Its painful to admit that you really don't know what you're doing, isn't it?
  

Disco Volante

In '96 or '97 (I can't remember when for sure), I was on college radio. I was the Music Director at WSGR-FM, 'The Bluewater's ONLY Alternative'. This meant that every day, I would come into the office, and there would be piles of new mail and new CDs to sort through. So much of it was obvious: obvious that it would go in the library, or obvious that it would go in the trash, or obvious that I'd have to listen to it first.

I remember one day, I opened up a bubble-wrap pack and found the newest Mr. Bungle CD. It was their second album, "Disco Volante." I liked the first one, but it was goofy circus music, more or less. Also relatively harmless lyrically. But, knowing Mike Patton, I had to listen to this one to find the 'do not play' songs. Part of my job was to label all library CDs pertaining to what songs were recommended, what songs not to play because of language, artist, title, and what style of music.

There was a track towards the middle called "Everyone I Went To High School With Is Dead." Considering how arrhythmic and odd the songs on this disc were, this one was actually somewhat playable. So it became one of the recommended songs, and quickly went into high rotation in my own weekly four hour show.

I liked the song because I was already out of high school for a couple years, and I really didn't like a lot of the people I had to share those four years with. There were the bullying types, the popular kids, the bitch clique, typical annoyances for a quiet untreated ADD-stricken kid with no interest in sports. But I didn't actually want them to be dead.

Last Friday, I went to a memorial/visitation for a girl I went to high school with. She was 29, like me. Her cause of death was a car accident, and no, she wasn't drinking, it was an accident, plain and simple. I didn't know her well, but she is someone who I knew and who shared a big growth experience with me: high school. She was one of the 'popular' girls, so its not like I ever talked to her, but I still felt like I should go to the visitation. Mostly because my friend who lives down here actually did know this girl. I was there for support.

I just found out today that a guy I went to high school with killed himself two weeks ago. Apparently, the service already happened, so I won't be heading north for that one.

Back in '94 or '95, I think, another guy I went to high school with passed away after a bad car accident. I remember going to the visitation. That was my first one. There were a few family funerals from the recent past (at that point in my life) that I had refused to attend. My feelings on death and departing were all over the place, but I knew for sure that I didn't want to go to those family funerals. I felt cold and sterile about it. But that showing was different...this was someone I actually knew. Someone who was the same age as me. Maybe I didn't know his family, and we weren't best friends, but their was still a connection. I wanted so badly to take an existentialist or Buddhist view of the whole thing, but I couldn't do it. It was easier with the family funerals because they were for people I barely knew.

Add onto these four the passing of several good friends who I did not go to high school with: six good people lost in the past five years. Brad will never make a big success of his artistic furniture company, Scott will never be seen wandering Hamtramck late at night in his bowler hat and 'Clockwork Orange' t-shirt, Tim will never transcend time and space to build a time machine (we all know he had it in him), Tiffany's big blue eyes will never light up a room again, Jake will never play with his band Moloko Plus ever again, and Larry will never get to tour Europe singin' with the Dirtys while on tour with the New Bomb Turks and Turbonegro ever again.

They all live on for these and many more reasons, but they never had a chance to do it all. Why not?

MONEYEGGSORALRIBRODEO

My Internet Tendency

Every day, there are several different websites that I read like clockwork. I make it a part of my daily routine at work. To me its required. Mandatory, in fact. Especially in a week like today where I'm having a total Office Space style week. I've seriously done maybe a full hour of work all week. Honest.

There are the usual things like Gmail and MySpace, but then I also regularly read and contribute to the DetroitYes forums. I also check out Fark for random news, Drudge Report for more serious news. Oh, also there's Working For Change for leftist political news. There are several different internet comics that I read every day (some are only weekly) like Questionable Content, Diesel Sweeties, Dilbert, Get Your War On, Derf City, Rehabilitating Mr. Wiggles, and the political cartoonist/columnist Ted Rall.

Then there's McSweeney's. I know, I know, I've mentioned it a few times before, but its endlessly witty and entertaining. I can't help it. Plus, a good portion of the content is submitted by readers who 'get' it. They understand what McSweeney's is all about. No, I can't put it into words, so don't ask, just check out the site.

So, I was reading McSweeney's just now and I was checking out the newest 'Open Letters To People Or Entities Who Are Unlikely To Respond'. The latest one was an open letter to someone's Sonicare Toothbrush. I read the whole thing, think its funny, then I see the name and location of the author. Its my friend and fellow blogger J-Dub! So, what you need to do now is go here and check out his submission to McSweeney's, then go and check out his blog The Baby Seal Club. Thank you. Have a nice day.

Whitey On the Moon*

Here's a fun game for Detroiters. Replace 'Whitey' with 'Kwame' and replace 'Moon' with 'Manoogian'. Okay, so you should probably also replace 'On' with 'In' so it makes more sense. You know what I mean.

A rat done bit my sister Nell. (with Whitey on the moon)
Her face and arms began to swell. (and Whitey's on the moon)
I can't pay no doctor bill. (but Whitey's on the moon)
Ten years from now I'll be payin' still. (while Whitey's on the moon)
The man jus' upped my rent las' night. ('cause Whitey's on the moon)
No hot water, no toilets, no lights. (but Whitey's on the moon)
I wonder why he's uppi' me? ('cause Whitey's on the moon?)
I wuz already payin' 'im fifty a week. (with Whitey on the moon)
Taxes takin' my whole damn check,
Junkies makin' me a nervous wreck,
The price of food is goin' up,
An' as if all that shit wuzn't enough:
A rat done bit my sister Nell. (with Whitey on the moon)
Her face an' arm began to swell. (but Whitey's on the moon)
Was all that money I made las' year (for Whitey on the moon?)
How come there ain't no money here? (Hmm! Whitey's on the moon)
Y'know I jus' 'bout had my fill (of Whitey on the moon)
I think I'll sen' these doctor bills, Airmail special (to Whitey on the moon)

*with apologies to Gil Scott-Heron

Milk Cow Blues

THE GOOD

• Detroit blogs - the growing number of websites and blogs specifically about Detroit. I'm not talking about some national corporation that provides info on cities around the country where nothing is truly rooted in the city. I'm talking about sites like DetroitBlog, which focuses on city history, architectural history and issues, and current Detroit politics. Then there's dETROITFUNK, where the focus is on photography. Its mostly a photographic blog of what's going on in the city right now with captions telling you what's what. Right now, there are some amazing photos of the recent fire at the old Studebaker plant in New Center. The newest and possibly most interesting Detroit blog so far is Model D - The Last American City. Unlike the others, this one is almost entirely positive, and is marketing-oriented. But, don't be afraid, its not spin city, its a positive, well-thought-out and organized blog about the city. The most important Detroit blog is also the longest running, and most involved: detroityes. Founder and moderator Lowell Boileau has become a quiet patriarch dedicated to the preservation and new renaissance of the city. There are several different forums on the site, the most popular being the 'Discuss Detroit' forum. The first time I stumbled on this site a few years ago, there were several different forms and too many 'in' jokes. Now, the site is just incredible. Its an endless source of information on EVERYTHING going on in this city. For the most part the forumers (is that a word?) are well-spoken, intelligent, factual, yet full of opinion. Plus, in addition to the forums, there are webisodes which form a photographic tour of Detroit. There's also an in-depth section detailing the history of soul music in the city. That part was written by a British fan of Northern Soul, but its written quite well. Check it out.
• Odessey & Oracle (sic) - the last album from psychedelic pop soul pioneers The Zombies. When it came out in 1967, it totally bombed. Now its looked on as one of the most important pop albums ever. I can't say enough about how much I love this record.
• Frozen meatballs - from Trader Joe's. Tasty little fuckers. I could eat the shit out of them. Doesn't matter if its the turkey, coctail, or regular meatballs, they're all good.
• The Arnie Palmer - After looking into it a little bit, I found out that the combination of half iced tea and half lemonade has been a popular post-golf-game drink for years. But now, the AriZona Beverage Co. and Arnold Palmer have teamed up to bring us this low-calorie version of the drink. And its only .99 cents for a huge can! Its a perfectly refreshing drink for the summertime.

THE BAD

• The Pacific Northwest - I wish friends didn't have to move away.
• Will Self - Contemporary British author. Okay, not really bad, just bad that I'm obsessed with his writing style. Although I suppose this is a healthy obsession. He has some novels, but his real talent is in the short story or in journalism. Check out "Feeding Frenzy" for a compilation of his journalism and check out "The Quantity Theory of Insanity" for a compilation of his short stories. His wit is acerbic, his observations are wry and detailed, and his characters behave in such a sardonic way that you hate to love them. This is what happens when you do a lot of drugs AND make a it work as a successful writer without sounding just like William Burroughs or Hunter S. Thompson (although he does interview both in "Feeding Frenzy").

THE UGLY

• My brain/heart - Forever misinterpreted and misunderstood, yet I plug away. The time is ripe for big changes. Watch out.
  

Time of the Season

I'm living in a movie that doesn't move me - Pete Shelley

See, that quote is interesting because it comes from a song called "Boredom" from the Buzzcocks. Boredom being the important part. The influence of the Situationist writers and artists was poking through. Flash foreward a few months, and Tony Wilson opens Factory Records as a vessel for Joy Division to release records. Wilson saw Factory as a Situationist statement, much like Malcolm McLaren felt when he started managing the Sex Pistols. The latter was probably the biggest Situ joke ever perpetrated on the world.

Let me give you some backstory, because its important. The Situationiste Internationalle was (is?) a collective of artists and writers that came together in a small town in Italy in 1957. Their goal was to supersede art itself, abolishing the notion of it being a separate specialized activity and transforming it into an everyday activity. From their standpoint art is revolutionary, or it is nothing. In this way, they saw themselves completing the missions of Dada and Surrealism while abolishing both.

Ever since I first heard about all of this in a 5000-level art history class at Wayne State University, I was immediately fascinated. To me, it made total sense, but only when you really boiled it all down to the simplest ideals of the movement. Raoul Vaneigem's book "The Revolution of Everyday Life" is like a fucking bomb. Also, "Days of War, Nights of Love" from Crimethinc is a good dumbed-down, yet highly romanticized Situationist primer.

I also want to say that I'm bothered by the way some people exploit revolutionary art for their own selfish purposes. "The Shape of Punk To Come" from The Refused, and everything from the singer's (Denis Lyxzen) current band The (International) Noise Conspiracy are good exposure for Situationist and revolutionary thought. They wrapped up subversion in a punk sound. Not that its a new idea (see MC5, et al), but they did it so well, and appealed to the kids in a way that galvanized a generation. Too bad too many of those kids saw it merely as yet another fashionable trend in punk rock. Fuck 'em.

I need to really get down with it, and just say what I'm tryin' to say here. I'm bored. Sofa king bored. Its not as simple as just having nothing to do. That isn't the problem. There are plenty of things I could be doing. It isn't just right now, its life, its work, its love, apathy, empathy, compassion, hatred, and the absolutely most boring problem of all: indifference.

I'm drawn to the romance of revolution, but I feel like its all just recuperation in the end. Whereby the revolution is repackaged as a saleable commodity, and I'm eating it up. It isn't real. The revolution begins with everyday life, unfortunately Vaneigem's book is so dense and inaccessible, I can't read it for much more than a half hour at a time.

Is revolution and art my escape from boredom? Hell no. I'm not Guy Debord or Asger Jorn, I'm not a pretentious (oh believe me, they were pretentious) artist trying to turn the world on its head when no one will listen. They spoke of psychogeography and derives and detournements as revolution and life merging into art, but I'm not seein' it.

We live in a world where one can alleviate boredom by throwing a velcro-suited dwarf against a velcro wall, you can eat battered and deep-fried candy bars until your arteries bloat with death, I could walk into the next office and staple my boss to his cubicle wall by his button-down shirt. The options are endless, but they aren't for me. This is not my idea of fun.

But that begs the question, is fun the only respite from boredom? What about anger and pain? I know most cutters cut themselves to control their pain, but could it also be out of boredom? Maybe they're just trying to feel something.

I could smoke a cigarette, watch the squirrels outside my office window, get drunk, listen to music, whatever, I'll still be bored. I'm compassionate and empathetic by nature, maybe the way to alleviate boredom is to step outside of what I know. To step outside of who I normally am. Maybe I should turn off some internal filters for once.

Maybe I should tell you to fuck off more often. Maybe I should leave behind the office job. Maybe I should seriously stop sitting on my hands, and start walking on them instead.

Surprise Ice

Today I met a carnie. He said his name was Michael, then he said "you caught my wings on film." Janna was shooting his portrait and I was assisting her. He said it as he was walking away, I barely heard what he said. Would it make sense for Michael the Archangel to be working as a carnie operating the Tilt-A-Whirl at a church carnival in Detroit? I think I'll chalk it up to yet another example of Detroit Phenomena.

An Open Letter to Rod Argent, Chris White, Colin Blunstone, Paul Atkinson, and Hugh Grundy (aka The Zombies)

RE: Odessey & Oracle

Dear sirs, first, I would like to thank you. Your 1968 'swansong' Odessey & Oracle is tied for the top spot of best pop record ever (in my mind). The space is shared with The Beach Boys' Pet Sounds. People may talk about the Beatles or the Kinks or maybe even Badfinger, but did any of those acts make a record as flawless as O&O? I don't think so. They wish they could've made an album as cohesive and solid as this. Every song leaves me wanting more, leaves me thinking of special people from my life, and begs to be listened to three or four or sometimes even five times in a row. I suppose I should also thank Fuel 2000 Records for their 2004 reissue with the added tracks. The Big Beat Records 30th Anniversary edition is good...its remastered, and both the mono and stereo versions of the entire album are included, but I don't need that. Who really does? If you're a purist or a completist, then you already have this stuff on vinyl, right? What do you guys think? Mr. White? Does one need both mono and stereo mixes of your beautifully written songs? Mr. Argent, do you believe that the stereo mix would suffice for your innovative arrangements? I think so.

I've read that this album was meant to be your last stand. Maybe a 'fuck you' to a world that wouldn't listen? Have you noticed yet that your sound was a blueprint for bands like The Smiths and New Order with sad lyrics buried in happy music? The songwriters from those bands grew up in England, and would've been just old enough to obsess over hit radio singles when you were still making them. I'm sure that if you were to go find Johnny Marr or Bernard Sumner, they'd say 'thank you', too.

That's all for now, I'm sure we'll be talking again soon enough.

rocknrollscientist
06/17/05, Detroit

La Chute

I was standing on the beach with a gun in my hand, staring at the sea, staring at the sand. Then I woke up. Time to stop sitting on my hands, the Stranger has worn out its welcome.

I'm starting to feel like that punk Sysyphus. Just waiting for the rock to roll over my back.

A Kid Without Claws

My head still pounds with allergens or mucus or something, shit... I don't know anymore. Last night, for the first time ever in my life, I walked into a drug store with the intent of purchasing an allergy medication. I grew up allergy-free. My sister has been allergic to almost everything (it seems) for as long as I can remember, but I always had it easy. Now, I just don't now what to do. The symptoms rule out sinus infection, and my nose isn't running anywhere, so I assume its allergies. It is the right time of the year, I've been told.

So, I'm standing in this aisle of the drug store, bathed in fluorescence. The brightly colored boxes are yelling at me with all their different applications. Different methods of consumption (assumption?), different doses, different prices, name-brands, Rite Aid brands, what the fuck? They all have the same shit: Loratadine, which is an antihistamine. Some also have acetaminophen, but I just want decongestion. That's all. Very few of the boxes tell me that they will take care of my swollen throat and congested head. Some do, but those involve large pills that must be swallowed, and in my case will get caught up right before heading south. In the end, I remembered what a friend recommended: Alavert. Extra bonus, this one comes in tablets that dissolve in your mouth and taste minty-fresh. Side note: Tylenol has a sinus medication that features a 'mint burst'. From reading the very fine print on the box, I found that this burst happens after you swallow the pills. Doesn't that sound like acid reflux or heartburn? Why would someone want a mint burst feeling or taste or whatever after swallowing a pill? Anyway, I bought the Alavert, which was supposedly non-drowsy and '24 hours'.

After spending my last twenty dollars until Friday on this medication, I had to try it out right away. I go out to the car, and pop one out of the blister pack. Following the instructions, which I rarely do with anything, I put it on my tongue and waited for it to dissolve. Keep in mind that I don't take over the counter medications, or prescription, either if I can avoid it. I'm just not down. The pill dissolved and almost instantly, I felt a little better. Then the cynicism kicked in soon afterward, and I started thinking that I was feeling better because the pill gave me a placebo effect. Either way, that little white minty lozenge made me feel somewhat better for almost eighteen hours. Time for another!

Run-Time Error

Gimme Reciprocity

I've been sucked in. Or shall I say I've been sucking the teat. Yesterday, I decided to obey my clogged sinus cavity and stay in. I didn't leave the house for anything. No brunch, no bike riding, no Arts Festival, no bar for Aaron's 30th (Thirty and Dirty).

I reclined and endured the pain in my head. HBO was my friend all day long. I didn't grow up with HBO or any other 'pay' cable channels, so I'm not familiar with this. This being the confusion you go through when you're constantly seeing different parts of a movie, but never the whole thing. Add onto that my odd attraction to certain films purely because of a cute girl, i.e. "Chasing Liberty" featuring Mandy Moore in a non-annoying role that doesn't involve singing.

Or "The Girl Next Door," which I probably would've gone to see at the theater, but I don't get out much to see films in actual theaters. Elisha Cuthbert. Strange, because I'm normally not into blondes. The sexuality of it all pulled me in, too. Plus Timothy Olyphant plays assholes too well, I was hooked in. Sort of like anything with Vince Vaughn. He's such a good asshole that you can't help watching the film. This actually was a pretty good film. You can't go wrong with three hot porn stars, three lucky high school guys, and an asshole like Olyphant. Especially when there's an actual storyline, and its not set up like porn where the plot is so very irrelevant. (I just realized that last week I got hooked into another film with Elisha Cuthbert: "Love Actually")

I'm pretty sure I watched most of "Head of State," featuring (and directed by) Chris Rock. I was confused at first, because it seemed serious, then it seemed like satire, I don't know, it all worked out in the end. Rock was elected president, blah, blah, blah.

Another interesting one was "Big Trouble." I think it came out in 2003. I probably would've gone right past it, but I saw Jason Lee. Being a slight fanboy for Kevin Smith films, I had to see what this was, because as I've stated before, I appreciate a good asshole on film, and Jason Lee always plays an asshole in Smith's films. Apparently, this one was based on a book by the satirical columnist Dave Barry. I've always liked Dave Barry. He's a little too tame at times, but fun nonetheless. There were so many freakin' stars in this film: Rene Russo, Dennis Farina, Tim Allen (okay, not much of a star), Stanley Tucci, Tom Sizemore, Andy Richter, Johnny Knoxville, Janeane Garofalo, Heavy D, Omar Epps, Patrick Warburton (Spoon!), and Zooey Deschanel. Okay, if I come across any film with Rene Russo, Dennis Farina, Stanley Tucci, Andy Richter, or Zooey Deschanel in it, I am paying attention. So, they had me, no real hook required. Just like any other film with too many stars in it, the whole thing kinda fell flat, but it was still entertaining.

I may have seen bits and pieces of three different "Six Feet Under" episodes, I wish I would've focused and watched each in their entirety. I love that show.

Then I saw two foreign films. One of them was "City of God." I didn't watch much of it, but I was intrigued, so I looked into it. Possibly, it was too much for me, I needed something lighter. This is a gritty film, very violent. To borrow from a reviewer on IMDB , this film could be subtitled "Grand Theft Auto: Sao Paolo." Except it actually takes place mostly in Cidade de Jesu, a slum of Rio de Janeiro. Interestingly, all of the actors were amateurs, taken mostly from Rio, and a few were from the City of God. The whole thing is about two men mostly. They're young gang members. One gets out of the Cidade de Jesu, and the other succumbs to it. It looked fascinating, but like I said, I wasn't in the mood for anything too serious at the time. Its HBO, I'm sure it'll be on again fifteen more times this week.

There was one more foreign film that I saw yesterday: "The Dreamers." With Comcast Digital Cable, there's a brief description at the bottom of your screen when going through the channels. I saw the name Bernardo Bertolucci ("Last Tango In Paris"), and I stopped. Then I saw that guy who played Tommy Gnosis in Hedwig & the Angry Inch, so I took a look. I started watching about a half hour into it, and I stopped long before it was done. I barely have an idea of what the hell was going on. Tommy Gnosis (Michael Pitt) was in Paris for some reason, I believe the setting was 1968. He somehow met a French author and his family and ends up staying with them. The author and his wife leave to go on holiday, and leave Pitt with their twin son and daughter. The siblings are very sexual and fanatical about old films. They act out scenes from old movies and then the we see the actual scenes from the movies. Eventually, the brother and sister talk Pitt into taking Isobel's (the sister) virginity while the brother watches. I lost interest soon after that. I think I just wasn't in the mood for it, but I definitely want to check it out if its on again this week. Maybe I can watch the whole thing, too.

That was my Sunday. A couch, an oscillating fan, several pints of Emer-Gen'C, a sinus cold, and HBO.

A Staggering Work of Eccentric Fiction

My eyes follow the fuzzy white dot of light as it circles the room. Disco balls make everything better. Especially when the room is totally dark except for that mirror ball and the one lone spotlight hitting at just the right angle. I follow that dot around and around...waiting for it to twist up, then turn the other way.

The ball never stops, it just keeps twisting one way, then the other, over and over. Concentric circles of fuzzy white rings painting a dark room. Light trails in my vision without acid. Always has.

I stand there staring at the light, thinking about who I was two months ago. Since then, I've neglected cleaning the house and my bedroom, stopped trying to pay my bills on time, stopped attempting a sense of a normal life. Spending money I don't have, drinking beer that never stays cold, ignoring the pressure building against my skull. Somewhere on a wall, I'm immortalized until someone bores of the painting. That pudgy bearded face won't be there forever.

My friends say "don't worry, just focus on yourself, it'll work out." Right, I fucking hate where I'm at.

My job is easy, to say the least. I spend most of my time in the cubicle thinking about anything BUT video duplication and distribution. My clients think I'm some sort of miracle-worker when in fact, they're just idiots and can't (or won't) comprehend how I do what I do for them.

Depression doesn't worry me, I'm too good for that. Its the indifference. That's what scares me. Its the apathy, the distaste for stupidity that scares me. Banality will kill us all, I suppose. It furrows my brow, giving me a constant headache. I can't sleep at night without meditating (that's a 't', not a 'c', please take note). Introspection is killing me softly. No, that's not right, its torturing me, there's nothing soft about it.

I'm so tired of fighting for a lost cause, i.e. love. I suppose that can be taken in a number of ways. My way involves a lack of balance. There's no balance between my idealism and realism. Throw in a good dose of passion, and I'm completely fucked.

About once (sometimes twice) every four or five years, an amazing woman or job opportunity finds me. You know why? Because I've always done what my friends are telling me right now..."focus on yourself, don't look for the ladies, they'll come to you." Doing that involves a loss of control. Not that I completely believe in freewill, but you know what? I'm so tired of waiting for the good job, and the girl.

Changes need to be made.

Sadly, this is not a staggering work of eccentricity or fiction, it is my life.

Cicciolina Tastes Like Candy

THE GOOD

• Get Behind Me Satan, the newest from the White Stripes. Just came out this week. A little downbeat, and a little bit country, and a little bit rock & roll, I suppose, but I definitely like it. I promise, no Osmonds were involved in the making of this record. A decision has been made! No, its not all like Blue Orchid, but its still all very worthwhile. Especially "Doorbell," its quite Jackson 5.
• Majesty Crush. Remember this band from Detroit's mid-90's musical past? They were all about obsessions, obsessed with My Bloody Valentine, obsessed with drinking, obsessed with female tennis stars, obsessed with Italian porn stars (Cicciolina). Obsession is good as long as you aren't the one obsessing or being obsessed. Does that make any sense? I just used the root 'obsess' so many times that it makes no sense in my head. Doesn't even seem like a real word. This is a good way to practice transcendental meditation, kiddies. Say a word in your head over and over until it loses meaning. Soon, you've 'disconnected'. Its fun, I do it all the time. Its the only way I can get to sleep at night.
• The Patio at the Garden Bowl (Detroit, MI). Its so nice when you can lean back in a chair while sitting at a picnic table, talk with your friends, watch the freaks go by on Woodward, drink a beer, and enjoy a rousing game of bum-fishing. Quarters, crazy glue, and parking meters. We are evil, evil bastards.
• The Firebird Band. I know, I know, I can't stop talking about them, but damn do I like it. Their show in Lansing on Monday was way too short.
• DJgutterball on a Friday night at the GB. I'll be at the GB tonight instead of Saturday. This is good, I'm not sure why, but it seems like it is. Lots of new music.

THE BAD

• The Transplants listening party at the Garden Bowl tonight from 6pm to 9pm. The Transplants are a side project for Travis Barker from Blink 182 and Tim Armstrong from Rancid. Why is this bad? I like Rancid, and believe it or not, I like Blink 182, also. What I don't like is having to deal with the possibility of a couple hundred teenaged Hot Topic customers milling around trying to get a glimpse of the rock stars who are bowling. I don't like the possibility of having to park a block away when I have a bunch of gear to eventually load in. I am a jaded son of a bitch.
• Pegboy. I like Pegboy. A lot. I haven't listened to them in a long time. In the late '80s, when Naked Raygun imploded, they reformed as Pegboy. The reason why its bad is because I was listening to "Three Chord Monte" today, and realized that Face to Face, who are one of my favorite pop-punk bands totally ripped off Pegboy's sound. I feel hurt, but I'll live. Because I, I will survive.
• Inadequate work computers. How in the hell am I supposed to multi-task if I can't have at least twelve different items running at the same time? Also pissed that MusicMatch takes up so much f-ing RAM.
• Scratch disks. How in the hell do I make the scratch disk on Photoshop bigger? This seems to be the one thing that Adobe didn't feel the need to overexplain to death in their user interface.
• HP 1300 PSC. Okay, it isn't that bad, it works most of the time, but after almost every time I print something, I have to unplug the power and plug it back in again to perform a cold reset, otherwise, the damned thing tells me that the carriage is stuck even though it isn't. Bitch.

THE UGLY

• Me and my skepticism, logic, practicality, realism, and doubt. Those are all the same thing, right?

Rebirth Of the Cool (version)

A couple of days ago, I happened to meet a woman through MySpace (online community) named Michelle. I quickly found out that she's in the band Shesus. I like that band. So, we started talking, and I found out why she introduced herself in the first place. My screen name on MySpace is I, Fuzzbot. Its the title of the first song on the first Brainiac record. I'm not fanatical about the band, but I like them a lot, and they were seriously, seriously underrated and overlooked in their time. Their time came to an abrupt end when the enigmatic singer Tim Taylor died in a car accident in 1997. The band was from Dayton, OH, which happens to be where Shesus and Guided By Voices are from, too. We talked a bit more, and it turns out she was in the band for the first record, and earlier EPs, then she was briefly in the Breeders, then Omatic, then Shesus.

All this talk of the musical past got me thinking. So, today I went to one of my older CD wallets. Its one of those big fuckers that hold 256 CDs. Most of what's in it is the stuff that I was really into when I first moved here. Some of it was pre-1997, and some of it was post-1997. That's the year I moved to Detroit.

I pulled out several different CDs that I felt like listening to in the cube today: Aphex Twin's "Richard D. James Album," "Strong Reaction/Three Chord Monte" from Pegboy, Sleater-Kinney's "The Hot Rock," "Selector Dub Narcotic" by various artists, Majesty Crush's last release, the EP "Sans Muscles," and finally, the big one..."Congregation" from the Afghan Whigs.

I can't believe how old some of this stuff is. I can't believe how long I've been listening to it. It's not like these CDs have sat somewhere untouched since 1997. That isn't the case, but usually I just pull out one at a time, listen to it to death, get over it, put it back in the wallet. I had forgotten about Pegboy. Last week, when DJing, someone asked me to play something from the "Richard D. James" album, and I seriously couldn't remember where it was. Glad I know now. I forgot how bland "The Hot Rock" is, and how much I love Majesty Crush. Shoegazer fan for life, I guess.

Okay, I have to admit, part of this interest in the past comes from my present explorations of the Twilight Singers and the Afghan Whigs (both involving Greg Dulli). I first heard them on MTV's 120 Minutes (when the show was still worthwhile) in 1991. It was the video for "Conjure Me" from the album Congregation. And it still sounds so good.

Superman III

Its now been six months to this day since we lost Tim and Scott. I'm still pissed, I'm still hurt. I don't think its fair, either. Its still on my mind every day. I've been to the cemetery several times in the past few months. I get lost every time.

A lot has happened to me and the rest of Detroit in these six months. I thought their deaths were the most complicated thing I ever had to deal with. I doubted I would come up against anything anywhere near as bad anytime soon. But I was wrong. So I live, and I love, and I learn. I know I can't bring them back, and recent events have convinced me that all you can do is grow and live and love and learn. I think it may be what they would've wanted us to do.

I miss you guys.

I Can Stay Here, and You Can Be Famous

There's so much to this, and I think it goes far beyond anything as simple as "oh, yeah, he's that guy who was in Braid."

Last night, my friends Chris and Andy and I drove out to Lansing, MI (an hour from Detroit) to see the Firebird Band. Andy got me into them shortly after seeing their first show in Detroit almost four years ago. Unfortunately, that is their only Detroit show so far. Its so strange, the people who I've gotten into the band like it a lot; their interest borders on obsession, much like Andy and I.

The differences between the first (Setting Sun and its Satellites) and the second albums (The City At Night) are monstrous, and the obtuse yet vaguely personal lyrics have become more vague.

The Firebird Band is Chris Broach (keyboards, guitar, lead vocals, ringleader), John Isberg (bass, vocals), and Jess Ronewald (keyboards, vocals). Chris used to be in the now legendary emo-ish (but much more complicated musically) band Braid. John is also in Joan of Arc. I don't know if Jess has been in any other bands, but damn, is she nice.

The Setting Sun and Its Satellites was expansive in sound and ideas, but still quite a bit like Broach's previous band Braid. If you aren't familiar with Braid, I'm not even going to attempt to explain, you'll have to check it out for yourself. This album does add some newer elements like drum machines, synths, and a slower pace. There's just a slight '80s New Wave feel to it, too. Lyrically, all the songs sound very personal, drunken, scared, and generally full of angst.

The City At Night by contrast is much more electro with mechanical beats fueling almost the whole thing. Every song features synth and a New Wave pop sound. But, lyrically its more vague. Listening to the record, it sounds like a soundtrack for young urban hipsters living their lives in the city at night. Exactly. Don't be put off by that, because I'm saying that from my perspective of what its like to live in the city and to be a night-dweller. I'm not saying that from the perspective of some marketing agency's demographics on hip young urbanites. Its a record about pain, and loss, emotion, love (of course), and isolation.

So, Monday night's show had four bands total. Unfortunately, TFB were not headlining this show. First up was Marathon, who sounded like they wished they were 88 Fingers Louie (but not as good), and looked like they thought they were the Suicide Machines in 1996 (but they aren't). Next up was New Mexican Death Squad (I think that was the name), who I didn't pay much attention to, but they seemed to be more of what Marathon had to offer. Boring. Finally, up third was The Firebird Band.

This lineup was so odd, because the headlining act was Bear Vs Shark; it was their record release show (although they had another one the next night in Detroit?), the two opening bands were hardcore. Whatever. The first two bands and BVS all took about ten minutes altogether to set up and do sound check. But, TFB took forever. I even joked to Andy that Chris (Broach) was turning primadonna about the whole thing. In the end, though, it was totally worth it for a too-short set that ended with a cover of Joy Division's "Love Will Tear Us Apart" featuring dead-on vocals from Broach and synth in the same tone as the original from Ronewald. Being a fanboy for Joy Division, this impressed me. Oh, also, they used an iPod for all of the drum tracks. I thought it seemed cheesy at first, but its really not. They can scroll to the song that they're about to play, and then just play to the iPod. Its like when a drummer has a click-track playing in an earpiece so they can keep time. Plus the sound quality was flawless.

All around, in fact, everything sounded great, and looked great, too. Broach and Isberg were both in suit coats and all in black. Broach even took it a step further with black eyeliner, which makes sense I guess with the New Romantic (think Duran Duran) approach of this latest album. He also knows how to play to a crowd and make them happy. All throughout this show, there was a Pistons game showing on several TVs, and everytime there was a big play, people started clapping and cheering. The first time it happened while he was talking, so he commented, "did you really pay to come here and watch a basketball game?" The next few times, he just treated it like they were applauding the band. Funny.

The cult of post-Braid Chris Broach projects goes beyond The Firebird Band. He started up his own label a few years ago called Lucid Records, which at first was just for his own projects. Originally, there was just the Firebird Suite, which evolved into The Firebird Band. Then there was L'Spaerow, which he says was just a one-off album, but its fucking amazing. Total My Bloody Valentine. After that came Life At Sea, which is a more downbeat indie rock kind of thing, and spread throughout were an EP and some singles from TFB. Now he's putting out other bands like The Blackouts, who remind me of the Greenhornes a little bit, but with more British Invasion sound. There's also the newest act on Lucid, Thunderlip, which is balls-out rock 'n' roll. A little odd compared to the rest of the label's roster, but damn, is it good. In fact, go here and check it out. Listen to the song in the 'Media' section. When we were at the show, Jess (from TFB) was manning the merch table, and I was looking at the table, and I said "damn, I already have all of this stuff" There were something like 8 or 9 CDs there. I'm a freak. She gave me a pin, and said she wished she had the new Thunderlip CD because she'd give it to me for being such a fanboy. Okay, she didn't call me a fanboy.

Funkier Than a Mosquito's Tweeter

I copped this from McSweeney's.

Ike Turner'sGuide to Restoring America's Honor.
BY KEN MCINTYRE
- - - -
OK, America, you done fucked up again. Things got a little out of hand, and you went and blew up another country. Now you got everybody all mad at you, and you don't know what to do. Well, don't worry, America. Ike's been down this road before, and I know exactly how to handle it. You better listen to what I'm telling you, America. Ike knows what he's talking about, and Ike's willing to help you out as long as you do exactly what Ike says and stop being so stubborn. You dig?

Step 1
OK, first things first, America. Stop smacking the bitch. I know sometimes you get caught up in the heat of the moment and you don't know when you've gone too far. Sometimes you just get so mad sometimes. I know you tried to warn Iraq. You told Iraq to stop provoking you. But Iraq wouldn't listen. Iraq was being stubborn and ignorant, and you had to teach Iraq a lesson. Now Iraq's all beaten and bruised and bleeding everywhere, fucking up the good carpet. It's time to chill the fuck out, America. You don't wanna kill Iraq. You just wanna show Iraq how much you love it. It's just sometimes you go a little crazy is all.

Step 2
Give Iraq a Kleenex and tell it to clean itself up. Tell Iraq to hurry, you ain't got all day.

Step 3
Now comes the hard part. You've got to apologize to Iraq, America. Even if you don't really mean it, you've got to swallow your pride and say the words "I'm sorry, baby." Tell Iraq that sometimes America just gets so mad sometimes, and things get out of hand. America doesn't mean to hurt Iraq. America just wants to teach Iraq a lesson, because America loves Iraq so much, baby. America knows what's best for Iraq, and if Iraq would just listen and stop being so stubborn, it could be the best country in the world.

Step 4
Surprise Iraq with a little present. How about ... the gift of democracy! Get all your friends together and make a big celebration out of it. Offer Iraq a little tiny slice of democracy for the cameras. Wait a minute! What's that? Iraq doesn't want your democracy? Tell Iraq it better take a bite of democracy, dammit. C'mon, Iraq, don't disappoint America in front of all these people. C'mon, have some democracy, you low-down dirty ho!
If Iraq asks you to leave it alone, just raise your fist and tell it to stop being all uppity. If Iraq still fights back, well, you're gonna have to teach Iraq a lesson.

Step 5
OK, you did it again. Now you done put Iraq in the hospital. Maybe it's time to do some soul-searching and find out if maybe the problem isn't with you. Promise Iraq that you're gonna try and get some help with your oil addiction and that you'll be a better country from now on. Oil makes you do some crazy things sometimes. Things you tend to regret later. You're gonna have to cut that shit out for good. You dig?

Step 6
Hey, I never said you had to quit cold turkey. Guzzle that shit down and drive over to Iraq's house and start busting up the joint, for old times' sake.

Step 7
OK, by now Iraq's probably threatening to kill your ass if you don't leave it alone. I know it's tough, but at some point you're gonna have to learn how to let go. It's gonna bruise the shit out of your ego, and other countries are probably gonna look down on you for the next few decades, but it has to be done. It'll allow Iraq to blossom into its own beautiful country, and it'll give you a chance to focus on improving yourself for a change. You used to be really great, remember? Think of all the amazing things you've done in the past. You went a little nuts there for a few years, but it's never too late to get back on track. Eventually, the world will learn to respect you again. They'll follow your example and learn from your mistakes.
And if it makes you feel any better, one day Iraq will probably star in a really shitty Mel Gibson movie.

Peace,Ike

Get Behind Me Satan

This morning, as usual, I was bored at work. I checked the usual things online, but then I pulled up McSweeney's Internet Tendency . I've addressed this site before in a previous post, probably weeks ago. Its a literary site. Anyway, they have this section called Reviews of New Food. Its fucking hilarious. Most of the new food that gets reviewed is junk food or fast food. Totally worth your time. You can find it here. I also highly suggest checking out the rest of the site. There's new stuff every day. The lists are also good, too. One of my favorites is 'Tools or Actions in Photoshop That, Were They Applicable To Real Life, Would Prove Useful At Various Stages of a Relationship'. That one is here.

I also highly recommend checking the food reviews on McSweeney's and then maybe watching "Unwrapped" on the Food Network to get the whole picture on what you're eating, and how its made. Fascinating.

The City and Driving

The office is slow today, and I keep going outside because the sun is out, I'm wearing shorts, and all seems to be right with the world. At least enough for me to be in a good mood. So, this weather makes me think of driving in the city and on the highway and music that I like to listen to when I'm driving. In no particular order...

• Genius/GZA - Liquid Swords. One of the few hip hop records that I know well from beginning to end, because this truly is the shit. I like it better than his stuff with Wu Tang.
• Sly & the Family Stone - Greatest Hits. Normally, I'm not into compilations or greatest hits albums, but this one has all the upbeat shit that you want to hear. Don't get me wrong, "There's a Riot Goin' On" is my favorite, but that was when Sly got all bitter and jaded and junked-out. Plus the GH has "Hot Fun in the Summertime" on it. You need that. Its summatime.
• The Zombies - Odessey & Oracle. Pop psychedelia at its best. This one is dripping with summer. It makes you think of scenes in movies where kids are running through a field in the summer sun.
• The Troggs - Love is All Around. Not an album, but a song. Not all that good for driving, but it is good for summer.
• The Firebird Band - The Setting Sun & Its Satellites and The City At Night. Chris Broach, who was in Braid once upon a time has gone pop and electro and who knows what else, but this stuff is good. Both albums, and any singles you can find. Great lyrics like "red-wine stained lips and your red, red lipstick" or "drunk nights and whiskey kisses, and bruises on my neck" (both from the same song). Both albums are a little heavy on references to the the city and driving in the city.
• AC/DC - anything with Bon Scott. It will make you drive faster, I promise. Especially "Riff Raff."
• Nas - Illmatic. N.Y. State of Mind, that's all I gotta say.
• Sugar - Copper Blue. There's just something about Bob Mould's voice, and the music is so poppy.
• Jawbreaker - Dear You. I guess its halfway between a breakup album and a fuck you album. Works for me. Nothing personal to anyone reading, I just love this record.
• Of Montreal - The Sunlandic Twins. Pure, Beach Boys influenced pop. Let's pretend we don't exist.
• The Exploding Hearts - Guitar Romantic. Perfect punk rock if there is such a thing.
• Paperclip People - anything you can find. Period. Carl Craig side project. Not quite techno, but definitely electro.
• The Herbaliser - Blow Your Headphones. British hip hop acid jazz masterpiece.
• Latyrx - Muzapper's Remixes. "Lady Don't Tek No" should be bumpin' from at least one car out on the Rock every Friday night in the summer.
• Teenage Fanclub - Four Thousand, Seven Hundred Sixty-Six Seconds. Its a greatest hits, but I think its one of the most perfect pop records of all time.
• Masta P - okay, I don't give a fuck about Masta P. I just want to hear Eli say "na, nah, na, nahhhh."
• Against Me! - Reinventing Axl Rose. Anarchists, acoustic and electric guitars, three guys singing at once? This screams summer on the road to me. But maybe I'm weird.
• Backyard Babies - Total 13. Damn, those Swedes know how to rock out. Rock and roll always makes me think of summer. But so does some hip hop...
• Tribe Called Quest - Low End Theory. Aside from my weird-assed and diverse taste, this should be on everyone's top summer records list.
• Screeching Weasel - Anthem For a New Tomorrow. More perfect pop punk.
• Descendents - Milo Goes to College. One of the best punk albums of all time in my eyes.
• MC5 - Back In the USA. It wouldn't be summer in Detroit without "Looking At You."

Okay, I could probably go on forever with this list, I'm just fuckin' around. I'll stop now. I'm sure I'll think of more later.

I Don't Have All the Answers, and I Don't Pretend To

I was just standing out in front of my office smoking a cigarette. The office park is kind of nice, lots of trees and flowers and greenery. I saw a Cardinal fly from one tree to another, and I was a little shocked. It made me suddenly reflective. I started thinking of all kinds of things that I miss. Here is a short list:

• Being able to go for a five minute drive and actually see deer in the forest. I used to be able to go to Belle Isle to get a small dose of nature, but then they went and corralled all the deer into the zoo, which is never open.
• I miss going to a restaurant with my grandpa and him asking for a window seat (overlooking the street) so that we can "watch the boats go by." He'd always laugh after saying it. The waitresses never got it.
• I miss the wall murals that would change every week in City Club. Somewhere around 1996, the murals got really lame. I remember standing along the wall facing the bar one night and saying to Lori, "wasn't this the Last Supper with skeletons as the Apostles last week? Now it's Mexican wrestlers. I love it."
• I miss Denny's at 4am. Not the silly folk song from Wally Pleasant, but actually being at Denny's at 4am. I miss the simplicity of it...drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes, talking, hangin' with the waitresses because we were the only people there.
• I miss when a bunch of us went to that diner that used to be at Warren and Cass for breakfast, and Timmy only had a dollar, and wouldn't let anyone buy him anything, so he ordered the 'extra egg' off the menu for 86 cents.
• I miss college radio and getting away with playing the Bouncing Souls, Wu Tang Clan, Sloan, and scratching on a Grover Washington record all back to back, just because I could get away with it.
• I miss acid that was actually one ion away from being PCP (so it was PCE), and not really acid at all, but I didn't care because it made the stars move in concentric circles when I laid on my back in the sand at Lighthouse Beach.
• I miss the days before I knew how to cook, when food was simple. Now I can't even make Kraft Macaroni & Cheese without adding pressed garlic. Okay, I can't make anything without garlic.
• I miss my Henryk Gorecki "Symphony No. 2" featuring Dawn Upshaw CD that John Alien borrowed five years ago and still hasn't given back. Instead he just jokes about it those rare times that I see him. Cracker.
• Speaking of John Alien, I miss stupid late night employee hijinks at the Majestic. It never seemed like running down the lanes to knock down the pins head-first was a bad idea. I'm glad it wasn't me.

I'm sure there's more, but there's this little flashing red light on my phone telling me that I have an unheard voicemail, and those people just don't quit. If I don't call 'em back soon, they'll start emailing me, too. Time to punch back in and deal with it.

The Party's Crashing Us

This past Sunday afternoon, I slept all day. Saturday wasn't particularly eventful until the evening. Lots of emotional stress while DJing, then I ended up staying late at the bar drinking after hours. Then I hung out in my car with a friend and a drink talking about all of this shit. By the time we were heading home, the sun was already coming up. I miss that. Not being out all night getting wasted, but being out all night and being able to see the sun come up. Anyhoo, this means that I went to bed around 7am. Usually I'd be worried about fucking with my sleep schedule because I work 9 to 5 during the week, but I had Monday off, so it was all good.

Anyway, what I'm trying to get at is the sleep that day. I had some really intense emotions, a shot of Jameson, a red bomb that I didn't really want but was bought for me, several PBRs, about half of some random vodka drink, and greasy food from a 24 hour coney island all influencing me in that sleep-state. Fucked up dreams. That's what it means. I only remember one, and I meant to type it out as soon as I got up, but I was too distracted by hunger. Then I lost it. I still remember some of it, but I've lost some of the specifics.

I remember that written or typed words were blobs. Okay, in Photoshop, there's this tool in the 'layer properties' menu. It's called 'stroke'. Basically, what it will do is apply an outline of any color you want around all of the objects in the layer. Its most commonly used for text to make it jump off the page. If you make the color of the stroke the same color as the text, it makes the text unreadable. Its just blobs of color in vague word-shapes. This is the way all written or typed text looked in my dream. There were colors assigned to the blobs which denoted emotions, but the only way to truly know what was being communicated was to actually hear it. You had to hear enunciation; you needed to actually see the face of the person who is speaking.

Its most likely that this was a lucid-dream, because I never remember dreams during REM sleep. I've read some dream interpretation stuff from Freud and Carl Jung, but most of it makes no sense to me as to what certain things are symbolic of. I think this is just me being tired of being misunderstood through email. Sarcasm doesn't seep through as easily as I would like it to in an email or text message or instant message. Know what I mean?

I can italicize and bold words or parts of words all I want, but I still end up misinterpreted. Sometimes it feels like these words don't mean anything unless I hear them or speak them.

Nothing Not Dance Party

These are the reasons why I hate HBO:

• Goodfellas. I have seen this movie probably five or six times. Yet, last night when I went to bed at midnight, and I went through the channels...I watched it. I watched Joe Pesci shoot that kid in the bar for not bringing him his drink fast enough. Yet again I watched and paid more attention to the music, cuz damn Scorsese is the man. Why was I watching this when I shoulda been sleeping? Because it was on, that's why.
• Six Feet Under & Curb Your Enthusiasm. I love these series. Six Feet Under is kind of like Arrested Development for me in that even though there's a long-winded backstory, and its hard to keep up if you don't watch every week, it still pulls you in. I don't know how anyone can not like Curb Your Enthusiasm. Most people liked Seinfeld. Larry David produced and wrote a lot of Seinfeld and Curb Your Enthusiasm is his show. He produces and writes and stars in it. He's just himself. Its great! But both of these shows are in reruns often enough. I don't need to be watching it. I can see it anytime.
• Crappy movies. I'll be going through the channels, and I'll end up stopping on something that looks interesting, but then I lose interest. Days or hours or weeks later, I come across another interesting part of the same lame movie. So then I have all these bits and pieces in my head, but no full movie. What it means is that given a chance, I'll sit and watch as much as I can just to figure out what the fuck is going on. Hours of my life that I cannot get back.
• Father of the Bride in Spanish. For some reason, I'm fascinated.