Welcome back all. How are you doing? Was Santa kind to you? The old fucker is still sweet on me, bringing me the awesome shit, like the aforementioned Bacon Salt, and things like the long awaited BLADE RUNNER box set that people like Bob and I have been impatiently waiting for over the past seven years. Santa is good and looks slightly Korean these days, but we do live in a diverse world. Jared Claus was also kind enough to send a kick ass package which cements my return to Chemlab fanboydom. Such a pal. I was just exchanging E-mails with a friend of mine who saw him play on this tour and also had the same experience I had. I think that tour had some of the magic dust (and not the kind that used to be smoked on Chemlab tours).
Anyway, I am not exciting, intentionally of course. Without small man here, (he arrives today), I've been able to move at a slower pace and do things like go out to dinner, see movies, pick up Irene at work, see my folks, relax and sleep in. Since I came back from L.A., my career is "musician". I've been buying software and new gear, including a vintage clone theory pedal, same kind used by Hooky, so I am dead psyched to again continue the quest for the perfect sound. Also, been working on new tracks, remixes, etc. and going back and forth with B via IM while he in Chicago as we take stock of the HF catalog both present and future. Because B is always away during the holiday, I try to work on new things, while he works on the future songs we already have in progress (DESCRIPTIVE, MAGIC WORDS, etc.)that will be featured on future releases. Then when he returns, we will go back to the current project. It's like taking a break without ignoring the band. Sorta the opposite of most aggression members who ignored the band while never taking a break. Ponder that one, shithead.
Speaking of the big A, I'm also using the time to brush up on the aggression history to keep that going cause I know Matt and Ash like to read that shit. I am just about up to the part where Mark moves to LA and Ash and I bump into each other at the Cure gig at Irving Plaza, Halloween 1997, which leads to him coming back. Coincidentally, this is when the band goes from being promising (yet awesome) to really fucking awesome and too cool for industrial school. Which should tell you something. I'm starting to forget a fuck of a lot, which is unusual for me so I am glad I am doing this now. We can flesh it all out later I guess.
Been catching up on my cinema as well. The non-asian kind. Believe me I'd be watching Asian movies nonfuckingstop if my All Region pieceofshit was working. So this forces me to watch non-asian films. Also, caught up on my wrestling history watching the Shaw Michaels DVD as well as the History of World Class. Man that World Class DVD was depressing. The Von Erichs. You know? You probably don't know, but they were messed up.
Saw the very hyped JUNO, which is actually quite worthy of said hype. I thought it was simple, smart, cute, and unpretentious and I'm not just talking about the actress Ellen Page, who is extremely good, and is the future Mrs. Kidd. The whole cast is super, and the movie was a real joy to watch. I'll be curious to see how it does in the big awards season time.
Speaking of the big awards, just nominate the Viggo already. He fucking owns so hard in EASTERN PROMISES that it hurts. The movie is good, lotta curveballs, you gotta stay sharp watching, but Viggo is the centerpiece and man does he go all the way with this. It doesn't hurt that he's got the Cassel supporting him and we all know the Cassel is the greatest actor, nay, the greatest human being on the planet. I really dug this flick. It is ultra sick fucking violent, something I kept trying to explain to Danny via text cause he wants to see it too, but the guy walked outta TRAINSPOTTING, so I don't know how he will handle this, especially when Viggo is fighting thugs naked. Like I said, he's the real deal here, he also wears these awesome fucking sunglasses that I really want. Anyway, Best Actor. Right there.
Anyway, Happy New Year to you my Christmas Friends. I'm still gonna try to do some kinda best of thing, but I've no motivation to do so. Soon maybe.
F
29.12.07
24.12.07
Christmas Begins
Irene raises the Christmas gift stakes with a pre-emptive strike featuring a selection of Bacon Salts. Dang!
Fatboy out.
23.12.07
22.12.07
Eastern
Hello from New York. What a fucking year, you know? Huge highs (often documented here unless enforced by security for the time being) and the lowest lows (rarely documented here, mostly a byproduct of the world I work in and not worth boring you as I am here to entertain), and rarely anything in between.
Still in the bliss of the Chemlab gig, I spent most of the week in Los Angeles. Because it was the end of the year, my schedule was fierce but I had my own little hole to hide in where I did spend the evenings in front of Live 7 working on a new piece that I am excited about. The song is inspired by an Israeli I met. Seriously. As we speak now, the various loops and ideas from this song play on in the background. When not working in LA or on music, I found myself doing the usual things you all know about by now, an evening at Ca'brea (where Pizza N Brew of Westchester was discussed at length), a few trips to see Irene's mom (whos definition of "a snack" would feed most countries), a trip to Bob's Donuts, a visit to Meltdown, and a fun breakfast with Kyle and Jamie. Of course the highlight was a few hours spent with Bradley J Cramp and daughter, who is hilarious and quite the little diva! I tried to explain to her that her bedroom used to be Uncle Frank's but she could give a toss as she owns it now! Wait till her twin brothers come in 08! Anyhow, I was upset to learn that that my friend Rick, who runs the DRUNKEN MASTER video store is closing the shop down. That's a fucking epic shame. Thats sorta like my first piece of LA culture lost. I avoid places like Shabu for obvious reasons. Of course I had a fucking convertible and it fucking rains. LA. Oh and the IPOD didn't fucking work either. Hello, asshole?
I was able to grab a flight back to NY with both business affairs and Roberto, so it was nice to have some company to travel East with. I am very pro the Virgin America (not Virgin Pacific or Atlantic, Roberto), though JFK needs to get its shit together as an airport. Fucking blows. Gimme Newark any day. Ugh. I had a 7:30am flight going out, left the apartment at 5:45 and STILL was late for the plane cause JFK is so disorganized. If it was Newark, I would have had breakfast, read a wrestling magazine and listen go a Maserati song 10x and still have time to spare. Anyway, JFK, whatever. I flew the business class going out and it was very comfortable and I finally put a huge ass dent in the Bret Hart book, which I am getting close to finishing. That is an achievement in itself, friends.
OK, so here I am back in the city, racing to make Christmas dreams come true for small children and in-house divas. I think I am successful, I just worry I keep forgetting something, or someone. Miss B has been crazy as busy as fuck as well and we still don't have a Christmas tree in MOGworld, even though I cleared the space. Gotta get on that ASAP.
Anyway, I need to start thinking about my "best of" list, which seems quite difficult to do this year. I don't know. I gotta review. Later, smackass.
F
Still in the bliss of the Chemlab gig, I spent most of the week in Los Angeles. Because it was the end of the year, my schedule was fierce but I had my own little hole to hide in where I did spend the evenings in front of Live 7 working on a new piece that I am excited about. The song is inspired by an Israeli I met. Seriously. As we speak now, the various loops and ideas from this song play on in the background. When not working in LA or on music, I found myself doing the usual things you all know about by now, an evening at Ca'brea (where Pizza N Brew of Westchester was discussed at length), a few trips to see Irene's mom (whos definition of "a snack" would feed most countries), a trip to Bob's Donuts, a visit to Meltdown, and a fun breakfast with Kyle and Jamie. Of course the highlight was a few hours spent with Bradley J Cramp and daughter, who is hilarious and quite the little diva! I tried to explain to her that her bedroom used to be Uncle Frank's but she could give a toss as she owns it now! Wait till her twin brothers come in 08! Anyhow, I was upset to learn that that my friend Rick, who runs the DRUNKEN MASTER video store is closing the shop down. That's a fucking epic shame. Thats sorta like my first piece of LA culture lost. I avoid places like Shabu for obvious reasons. Of course I had a fucking convertible and it fucking rains. LA. Oh and the IPOD didn't fucking work either. Hello, asshole?
I was able to grab a flight back to NY with both business affairs and Roberto, so it was nice to have some company to travel East with. I am very pro the Virgin America (not Virgin Pacific or Atlantic, Roberto), though JFK needs to get its shit together as an airport. Fucking blows. Gimme Newark any day. Ugh. I had a 7:30am flight going out, left the apartment at 5:45 and STILL was late for the plane cause JFK is so disorganized. If it was Newark, I would have had breakfast, read a wrestling magazine and listen go a Maserati song 10x and still have time to spare. Anyway, JFK, whatever. I flew the business class going out and it was very comfortable and I finally put a huge ass dent in the Bret Hart book, which I am getting close to finishing. That is an achievement in itself, friends.
OK, so here I am back in the city, racing to make Christmas dreams come true for small children and in-house divas. I think I am successful, I just worry I keep forgetting something, or someone. Miss B has been crazy as busy as fuck as well and we still don't have a Christmas tree in MOGworld, even though I cleared the space. Gotta get on that ASAP.
Anyway, I need to start thinking about my "best of" list, which seems quite difficult to do this year. I don't know. I gotta review. Later, smackass.
F
19.12.07
OWN YOU.
Time Magazine's MAN of the Year: "Though he will step down as Russia's President in March, he will continue to lead his country as its Prime Minister and attempt to transform it into a new kind of nation, beholden to neither East nor West."
16.12.07
H-BAR: Back in Business.
I am still a bit hungover, and trying to watch wrestling ppv while also packing for a 7:30am flight, so forgive me if this is erratic and without the usual charm found in most of my entires.
This was a fun weekend, though I am paying for it now. First off, on Friday, Evan and I, thanks to Michael and also thanks to Charlie B at Warners, got to see the DARK KNIGHT IMAX footage that is going on the IMAX screenings of I AM LEGEND. Ok, it's the introduction of The Joker in the movie and it is the shit your pants awesome. Smart. Clever. Scary. They filmed this particular section in IMAX and man did it own. As you smarter folks know, the trailer just went up tonight, and man I think we have the best of movie of 08 already determined. It just looks can't lose and believe me, you know I know these things. I'm so glad our other movie, the one that just finished shooting on Friday, I am happy to say, is coming out like 6 months after....The mistake was seeing I AM LEGEND after, cause it was all downhill. Don't get me wrong, its a good movie. Will Smith is a super actor and really keeps this thing together. Francis, who did a movie you may recall mentioned here called CONSTANTINE, is a helluva director. The whole thing kinda falls apart at the end and the CGI is surprisingly below par. Also I don't think seeing all this in IMAX was the best idea either. Evan likened it to something like seeing broadcast TV on a High Def screen cause it didn't look right and honestly, it gave me a freakin' headache. But the movie is a huge hit and Will Smith is the biggest star on the planet and should run for President of the United States, cause he could win that election.
Anyhow, Saturday I went super crazy and cleaned MOGworld and got it ready for Christmas. Irene was VERY impressed. I thought I was gonna be out of town, so I wasn't planning on seeing Jared bring his new version of Chemlab to The Knitting Factory. However, plans change and I was psyched to see Jared do his thing. A phone call from Sean Cyanotic made it so I was going early to see these kids play, so after having some Pizza with Irene, I made my way down to the old neighborhood, which has changed quite a bit.
I can't lie to you. Industrial music, machine rock, etc. is my past and going to these things always reminds me why I have never gone to any of my High School reunions. However, Jared wisely didn't book this at That Batcave or some wack goth shit, so the venue, with its separate bar, would create a more comfortable environment for me to watch the angry music. Sweetly, Jared, who didn't know if I was coming to the gig or not, made sure I was on the list. It's weird to be recognized by people especially all these years later, but one of the true highlights was time spent talking with Wade from Christ Analogue, who was very nice to the aggression 10 years ago when we opened for him, and is still just as nice today. Great guy and he was doing sound for Jared (which makes me hate him simply because I am massively deaf today!). Anyhow, the respect from the other musicians is nice and appreciated.
I checked out Cyanotic and was really impressed with the energy of the live show. They imported the drummer from Front Line and he kept it massively tight. Sean has a good stage presence and these kids are enthusiastic, especially Dave, who I remember as a kid from the Crack message boards who went and made a nice living for himself as an engineer. 15 years ago they would have been superstars, instead theyre the sole flagbearers. I'd like to see these guys work on the songwriting a bit cause they have all the other elements needed to make good machine rock.
So finally, after a bunch of drinks with B and The Kidd, Jared took to the stage with his crew, now augmented with Jason from SMP on drums. And what I tell you is no joke, but they started with EXILE and from the first note, we knew that this gig was gonna be the goddammned best thing I have seen in ages. I can't tell you how much I loved every fucking second of Jared owning this fucking audience like a superstar. He ran through the crowd, got them moving and gave 3000 percent on stage. Great setlist. The band was awesome, the drummer was the missing ingredient cause he's brought everyone's game up to a new level. The joy I feel watching Jared up there, healthy, happy, looking fucking amazing just put a smile on my face. For one night, it was literally everything I loved about Chemlab right in front of me. We were dead into it. I truly never thought this could happen and it did. I love being wrong, Bob.
Despite being asked to comment on these things every so often, I honestly was going through a rough patch because certain suburban douchebags making vanilla midget music that no one gives a shit about had robbed me of what I loved about this music. In a single night Jared and company restored my faith and made it fun for me to love machine rock again. Now mind you, Mark Mohtashemi's not getting a phone call asking to dust off his teal green SG to bring the hate back, but now I can at least enjoy the music I spent my twenties making and listening to. Everything has its place, and this music now has that nice chapter in the book of Frank that we can look back on and say "that was fun!". And as always, Chemlab is still my favourite industrial band ever. Hugging and laughing with a sweaty Jared after the gig just topped it off. He was so happy and I was happy for him. He's amazing. A true star.
The vibe was good and since it was the last night of the tour, the band/crew were not exactly interested in going out, so B, Kidd and I brought it to the Lodge. And thank fuck Vincent himself was working. Thus we started OFF with free drinks. Then it was downhill. B didnt last long. He couldn't even walk straight so off he went into a cab, Connelly book in hand, off into the unknown. The Kidd and I had our beers, had our whiskey, did our drunk dailing, and kept it real to the wee hours.
All I remember after this is coming home while Irene and her friends, at 330am were watching ALMOST FAMOUS. I think she made me some soup and I was running around yelling I AM A GOLDEN DOUCHE! or something like that. I remember calling Danny a lot.
Today was painful. Now I have to go to LA. See you there.
F
This was a fun weekend, though I am paying for it now. First off, on Friday, Evan and I, thanks to Michael and also thanks to Charlie B at Warners, got to see the DARK KNIGHT IMAX footage that is going on the IMAX screenings of I AM LEGEND. Ok, it's the introduction of The Joker in the movie and it is the shit your pants awesome. Smart. Clever. Scary. They filmed this particular section in IMAX and man did it own. As you smarter folks know, the trailer just went up tonight, and man I think we have the best of movie of 08 already determined. It just looks can't lose and believe me, you know I know these things. I'm so glad our other movie, the one that just finished shooting on Friday, I am happy to say, is coming out like 6 months after....The mistake was seeing I AM LEGEND after, cause it was all downhill. Don't get me wrong, its a good movie. Will Smith is a super actor and really keeps this thing together. Francis, who did a movie you may recall mentioned here called CONSTANTINE, is a helluva director. The whole thing kinda falls apart at the end and the CGI is surprisingly below par. Also I don't think seeing all this in IMAX was the best idea either. Evan likened it to something like seeing broadcast TV on a High Def screen cause it didn't look right and honestly, it gave me a freakin' headache. But the movie is a huge hit and Will Smith is the biggest star on the planet and should run for President of the United States, cause he could win that election.
Anyhow, Saturday I went super crazy and cleaned MOGworld and got it ready for Christmas. Irene was VERY impressed. I thought I was gonna be out of town, so I wasn't planning on seeing Jared bring his new version of Chemlab to The Knitting Factory. However, plans change and I was psyched to see Jared do his thing. A phone call from Sean Cyanotic made it so I was going early to see these kids play, so after having some Pizza with Irene, I made my way down to the old neighborhood, which has changed quite a bit.
I can't lie to you. Industrial music, machine rock, etc. is my past and going to these things always reminds me why I have never gone to any of my High School reunions. However, Jared wisely didn't book this at That Batcave or some wack goth shit, so the venue, with its separate bar, would create a more comfortable environment for me to watch the angry music. Sweetly, Jared, who didn't know if I was coming to the gig or not, made sure I was on the list. It's weird to be recognized by people especially all these years later, but one of the true highlights was time spent talking with Wade from Christ Analogue, who was very nice to the aggression 10 years ago when we opened for him, and is still just as nice today. Great guy and he was doing sound for Jared (which makes me hate him simply because I am massively deaf today!). Anyhow, the respect from the other musicians is nice and appreciated.
I checked out Cyanotic and was really impressed with the energy of the live show. They imported the drummer from Front Line and he kept it massively tight. Sean has a good stage presence and these kids are enthusiastic, especially Dave, who I remember as a kid from the Crack message boards who went and made a nice living for himself as an engineer. 15 years ago they would have been superstars, instead theyre the sole flagbearers. I'd like to see these guys work on the songwriting a bit cause they have all the other elements needed to make good machine rock.
So finally, after a bunch of drinks with B and The Kidd, Jared took to the stage with his crew, now augmented with Jason from SMP on drums. And what I tell you is no joke, but they started with EXILE and from the first note, we knew that this gig was gonna be the goddammned best thing I have seen in ages. I can't tell you how much I loved every fucking second of Jared owning this fucking audience like a superstar. He ran through the crowd, got them moving and gave 3000 percent on stage. Great setlist. The band was awesome, the drummer was the missing ingredient cause he's brought everyone's game up to a new level. The joy I feel watching Jared up there, healthy, happy, looking fucking amazing just put a smile on my face. For one night, it was literally everything I loved about Chemlab right in front of me. We were dead into it. I truly never thought this could happen and it did. I love being wrong, Bob.
Despite being asked to comment on these things every so often, I honestly was going through a rough patch because certain suburban douchebags making vanilla midget music that no one gives a shit about had robbed me of what I loved about this music. In a single night Jared and company restored my faith and made it fun for me to love machine rock again. Now mind you, Mark Mohtashemi's not getting a phone call asking to dust off his teal green SG to bring the hate back, but now I can at least enjoy the music I spent my twenties making and listening to. Everything has its place, and this music now has that nice chapter in the book of Frank that we can look back on and say "that was fun!". And as always, Chemlab is still my favourite industrial band ever. Hugging and laughing with a sweaty Jared after the gig just topped it off. He was so happy and I was happy for him. He's amazing. A true star.
The vibe was good and since it was the last night of the tour, the band/crew were not exactly interested in going out, so B, Kidd and I brought it to the Lodge. And thank fuck Vincent himself was working. Thus we started OFF with free drinks. Then it was downhill. B didnt last long. He couldn't even walk straight so off he went into a cab, Connelly book in hand, off into the unknown. The Kidd and I had our beers, had our whiskey, did our drunk dailing, and kept it real to the wee hours.
All I remember after this is coming home while Irene and her friends, at 330am were watching ALMOST FAMOUS. I think she made me some soup and I was running around yelling I AM A GOLDEN DOUCHE! or something like that. I remember calling Danny a lot.
Today was painful. Now I have to go to LA. See you there.
F
9.12.07
Tramps Like Us
It's been a long week. Stressful workwise, fun Uncle wise. Sister In Law and Nephew decided to stay a little longer which was good as the ladies were getting along and the little man and I had a lot on the agenda of things to do that men do (buy comics, play videogames, eat candy).
On Friday night though, Danny, Lurch, B, and I went to some pretentious "theatre space" on Bleeker to check out the pretentious new band from Vincent Gallo, called RRIICCEE. Ok so this is supposed to be an "improv" band, and you know how much we all love Gallo. I don't have to get into that. Irene was going to go, but bailed to hang with sister and nephew. After eating some Indian with them, I met Danny and Lurch at Cameron's fave bar, Tom and Jerry's for a pre gig drink. I had a really stressful day before this (which i think is why I am home sick now typing this to you), so Danny, being Danny, tried to get me to do a shot of Jaeg. We've been over this, and as Laura will tell you, I know how to Just Say No to Jaeg. However, that doesnt mean I am anti shot, so while queens and Harlem drank their Jaeg, your hero kept it Grandpa Al style and had him some Whiskey. It was just enough to take the edge off, and believe me, I sure was about to need that edge off.
Let me state for the record, that Lurch and Danny had a few drinks prior to the few drinks with me. Danny, in particular was in the rare form. Luckily for Gallo and company, there were no drinks served at this place, because then there would have been real trouble. The first sign of RFK (meaning, get the fuck out of here) was when Michael Pitt was sitting two rows in front of us. Then, the "band" came out (Gallo wearing KARATE KID style headband) and were met by a polite round of applause and Danny cheering "RRIIICCEEEEEEEEEE" like he was at Summerslam. And then the "band" picked up their instruments. And I can't even begin to tell you how fucking terrible this was. This is what I imagine ex-aggression members are doing with loopmaking half asses somewhere on Long Island, except any ex-aggression member could do something better than this turgid pile of shit. Literally, I cannot describe it to you, so I will let these excerpts from a post off Brooklyn Vegan explain it to you (and they are being VERY kind here):
"RRIICCEE were absolutely godawful.
What an absolute disaster. These were long, drawn-out, excruciatingly boring post-rock improvisations. It seemed like one lame "intro" track after another, no one seemed to enjoy it. Not the band, not the crowd, no one.
Complete and utter waste of time and money, and such pretentiousness from every angle. I left after 45 minutes because I just couldn't take their boring crap anymore.
Best way to describe the music: imagine if Sigur Ros had a lobotomy, ridding them of any sort of style, emotion, or direction in their music. (Not an insult to Sigur Ros, I think they're awesome) But this lame post-rocky shit has got to stop. PROGRESS DAMN YOU!
As I was leaving I caught a glimpse of the merch table:
EXTREMELY LIMITED EDITION T-SHIRTS: $50
EXTREMELY LIMITED EDITION POSTERS: $100
This show should have cost no more than $7 for what it was. Now I can join the chorus of people everywhere and say "Fuck you Vincent Gallo"."
OK one thing I did fail to mention was Danny laughing at the merch guy before the gig started for those insane prices. Hilarious. Within minutes of them "performing", Brandt was texting his girlfriend, Danny and I were texting each other things such as "DDOOMMIINNOO" (see earlier blog entry titled WORST NIGHT EVER to learn with that means) and Lurch was asleep. All I could hear was the sound of Gallo's head going further up his own ass.
This was unfuckingbearable. And then Danny, via text, declared something that hasn't been declared since we were 14: "We Should WALL STREET". Now even you diehards don't even know what the fuck that means, but let me explain. As young men, we and some young ladies went to go see the movie WALL STREET and decided this movie was the worst movie ever made (we were young), and we thought we were cool ass to have walked out right in the middle and declared this movie a failure to everyone in the theatre. It's the absolute last resort in all things MOGpac and only Gallo could bring us to this point. I then turned to Danny and said "OK, you're right, at the end of this song, we Wall Street" Brandt and Lurch had no idea what the fuck that meant, but seemed to catch on pretty quick as we got our shit and walked the fuck out. Danny of course turned to everyone and said something like "GOOOD NIGHT RIIIIICEEE!!!!!" very loudly. We found the dude with the afro from The Strokes (who is at all things Gallo in NYC) sneaking out as well and of course danny called him out with a very loud "SEE YOU LATER STROKES!!" or "HEY STROKES, DON'T FORGET YOUR RRIICCEE". Something like that...
And then we went to Swifts for a drink. I only stayed for one as I had to take nephew and Sister in Law to the train at 7am, but man I needed that drink. Then we discussed the latest internet sensation: 2girls1cup. Danny's reaction is priceless.
The next morning, I got the Montreal crew off on their train and found myself feeling ill and unable to go back to bed. Thus, I read the entirety of Chris Connelly's memoir CONCRETE, BULLETPROOF, INVISIBLE & FRIED: MY LIFE AS A REVOLTING COCK. This is a fun and breezy read. Not as in depth as I would like, but again my knowledge of this stuff, along with Brandt, is already pretty in depth. I always love Connelly's writing and this was no exception. I would like to have had a little more insight into the people I have admired over the years, and I felt he short shifted his own solo career (of which I am a big fan) but this book is a great read if you have some knowledge of the cast of characters. Someone needs to write a definitive book of the time period when they're not working on the HF album.
And here I am now, home sick, reading manga nonstop, trying to get through Bret Hart's wayyyyy to deep book, working on a tune or two and listening to the wealth of CD's I have purchased or stolen as of late. I was supposed to be traveling tonight, but that is now pushed a week so I can enjoy NY a bit more and hopefully see Jared and co on Saturday.
F
On Friday night though, Danny, Lurch, B, and I went to some pretentious "theatre space" on Bleeker to check out the pretentious new band from Vincent Gallo, called RRIICCEE. Ok so this is supposed to be an "improv" band, and you know how much we all love Gallo. I don't have to get into that. Irene was going to go, but bailed to hang with sister and nephew. After eating some Indian with them, I met Danny and Lurch at Cameron's fave bar, Tom and Jerry's for a pre gig drink. I had a really stressful day before this (which i think is why I am home sick now typing this to you), so Danny, being Danny, tried to get me to do a shot of Jaeg. We've been over this, and as Laura will tell you, I know how to Just Say No to Jaeg. However, that doesnt mean I am anti shot, so while queens and Harlem drank their Jaeg, your hero kept it Grandpa Al style and had him some Whiskey. It was just enough to take the edge off, and believe me, I sure was about to need that edge off.
Let me state for the record, that Lurch and Danny had a few drinks prior to the few drinks with me. Danny, in particular was in the rare form. Luckily for Gallo and company, there were no drinks served at this place, because then there would have been real trouble. The first sign of RFK (meaning, get the fuck out of here) was when Michael Pitt was sitting two rows in front of us. Then, the "band" came out (Gallo wearing KARATE KID style headband) and were met by a polite round of applause and Danny cheering "RRIIICCEEEEEEEEEE" like he was at Summerslam. And then the "band" picked up their instruments. And I can't even begin to tell you how fucking terrible this was. This is what I imagine ex-aggression members are doing with loopmaking half asses somewhere on Long Island, except any ex-aggression member could do something better than this turgid pile of shit. Literally, I cannot describe it to you, so I will let these excerpts from a post off Brooklyn Vegan explain it to you (and they are being VERY kind here):
"RRIICCEE were absolutely godawful.
What an absolute disaster. These were long, drawn-out, excruciatingly boring post-rock improvisations. It seemed like one lame "intro" track after another, no one seemed to enjoy it. Not the band, not the crowd, no one.
Complete and utter waste of time and money, and such pretentiousness from every angle. I left after 45 minutes because I just couldn't take their boring crap anymore.
Best way to describe the music: imagine if Sigur Ros had a lobotomy, ridding them of any sort of style, emotion, or direction in their music. (Not an insult to Sigur Ros, I think they're awesome) But this lame post-rocky shit has got to stop. PROGRESS DAMN YOU!
As I was leaving I caught a glimpse of the merch table:
EXTREMELY LIMITED EDITION T-SHIRTS: $50
EXTREMELY LIMITED EDITION POSTERS: $100
This show should have cost no more than $7 for what it was. Now I can join the chorus of people everywhere and say "Fuck you Vincent Gallo"."
OK one thing I did fail to mention was Danny laughing at the merch guy before the gig started for those insane prices. Hilarious. Within minutes of them "performing", Brandt was texting his girlfriend, Danny and I were texting each other things such as "DDOOMMIINNOO" (see earlier blog entry titled WORST NIGHT EVER to learn with that means) and Lurch was asleep. All I could hear was the sound of Gallo's head going further up his own ass.
This was unfuckingbearable. And then Danny, via text, declared something that hasn't been declared since we were 14: "We Should WALL STREET". Now even you diehards don't even know what the fuck that means, but let me explain. As young men, we and some young ladies went to go see the movie WALL STREET and decided this movie was the worst movie ever made (we were young), and we thought we were cool ass to have walked out right in the middle and declared this movie a failure to everyone in the theatre. It's the absolute last resort in all things MOGpac and only Gallo could bring us to this point. I then turned to Danny and said "OK, you're right, at the end of this song, we Wall Street" Brandt and Lurch had no idea what the fuck that meant, but seemed to catch on pretty quick as we got our shit and walked the fuck out. Danny of course turned to everyone and said something like "GOOOD NIGHT RIIIIICEEE!!!!!" very loudly. We found the dude with the afro from The Strokes (who is at all things Gallo in NYC) sneaking out as well and of course danny called him out with a very loud "SEE YOU LATER STROKES!!" or "HEY STROKES, DON'T FORGET YOUR RRIICCEE". Something like that...
And then we went to Swifts for a drink. I only stayed for one as I had to take nephew and Sister in Law to the train at 7am, but man I needed that drink. Then we discussed the latest internet sensation: 2girls1cup. Danny's reaction is priceless.
The next morning, I got the Montreal crew off on their train and found myself feeling ill and unable to go back to bed. Thus, I read the entirety of Chris Connelly's memoir CONCRETE, BULLETPROOF, INVISIBLE & FRIED: MY LIFE AS A REVOLTING COCK. This is a fun and breezy read. Not as in depth as I would like, but again my knowledge of this stuff, along with Brandt, is already pretty in depth. I always love Connelly's writing and this was no exception. I would like to have had a little more insight into the people I have admired over the years, and I felt he short shifted his own solo career (of which I am a big fan) but this book is a great read if you have some knowledge of the cast of characters. Someone needs to write a definitive book of the time period when they're not working on the HF album.
And here I am now, home sick, reading manga nonstop, trying to get through Bret Hart's wayyyyy to deep book, working on a tune or two and listening to the wealth of CD's I have purchased or stolen as of late. I was supposed to be traveling tonight, but that is now pushed a week so I can enjoy NY a bit more and hopefully see Jared and co on Saturday.
F
6.12.07
guten tag!
quick post from Munich. My flight to krakow was fortunately delayed as we left newark almost two hours late. I forgot how much I love this country. Highlight so far: two fresh stamps for my new passport...for smoking a cigarette.
And the itouch rules too.
more to come soon.
tschuss!!!
And the itouch rules too.
more to come soon.
tschuss!!!
3.12.07
2.12.07
NAME DROPPING: MATT GENTILE
Hello All:
Greetings from NY, the longest stretch on home turf in years. That's about to change, I believe, but you never know by the minute, the hour, etc. Let's get caught up to speed:
Thanksgiving was a quiet affair at my Aunts on Long Island. It was brief and quiet and delicious. The next morning, I hopped in my newly rented Ford Escape and took the trek up North to the great Montreal to visit the little man, who's toys have been in our house since August. It was a good trip, my first drive up there solo, so it was fun just rolling albums I haven't had a chance to give proper attention to, etc. Its hilarious how cold it is up there. It was literally in the high 50's and sunny and then suddenly, an hour before the border, shit turns grey and snow in full effect.
I was poorly dressed for the Canadians, but Col, Cam, and Yan, indulged me and let me be a lazy fuck. Nephew of course felt the need to wake me up at the early hours, and at one point even put a small dog on my head. Uncle limits were tested right there, but I got tons of rest, ate like a champ, played videogames and just clowned around. They have a sweet new pad as well, which made it fun. I knew going home on Sunday would be a huge error as I would be stuck at the border for hours and hours, so I took Cam to the schoolbus on Monday and then drove my ass back that morning. Smooth sailing.
Since then, I have been working and doing the usual (which means, waking up and not knowing what the fuck will happen by the time the day is over). Work is stressful, but the movie is looking awesome. I am so excited about it.
I went to B's one night this week, but my head wasn't totally in the game cause Cam was home alone and calling me nonstop. But B wisely turned the evening into a night of Dumont Burgers and album review. We got through a lot of stuff and the progress is insane. He worked with Bob while I was in Montreal and they had a super productive time. The tracks are huge and fierce, and even got Flatbread to play on the long gestating Sweetest Soul Remix. Flipping awesome work from Hartsdale's Own. He's brought it to the big time.
Friday night Irene took me to one of those Flavorpill museum things. It was classy. We had a few drinks and apps with Roger and his friend Rich, a student of good martial arts movies. This led to much conversation and me jotting down tons of titles for this guy to watch. He's gonna be dreaming of Johnnie f'n To. Anyway, at the event, Juan McClean DJ'd. No Jerry in sight, but the set was good. It was a chill evening and a good time. We were home mildly late.
Saturday was the highlight. Irene was home in the morning so we kept it lazy, ordered some brunch and cleaned the apt up for our incoming houseguests from the great north. Then she went to work while your hero brought it to B's and played what is just about my last round of bass for the album (minus the remaining song we need to finish writing). This was much more enjoyable than the trip earlier in the week where I was distracted. We got our shit done and then looked ahead to another song for a future release that we're dead excited about.
From there, I ran back to the city to get some food with my long-missed idiot convention. All are back from their respective travels and Danny-Boy (aka Penis Wrincle, yes that is how it is spelled), chose the Cambodian awesomeness of Kampuchea (78 Rivington St, New York 10002 At Allen St) for us to dine at. Danny described this as "Irene level Awesome" and man he was not kidding. I strongly urge you to get your ass there. Who the hell knew there was food this awesome in the Alcoholic Playground. I thought it was just a bunch of cunts and shit bars for assholes. Well even that couldn't last forever. Thankfully.
Why were we in this area? Well, asshole, it is because we had to get to the Bowery to see the styling of MR. Richard Hawley. He being formerly of Longpigs and Pulp and being currently an awesome fucking solo artist, I slipped his new album to the lads a few months ago and we all universally agreed amongst us idiots that this guy is the awesome we like. Danny nicely got my ass a ticket despite not knowing if my ass would be in town. Luckily it was, and luckily I went to this gig, cause it was fucking great. Hawley is funny in a dulli way but with less angst. He even called someone "gay". He played a super set that we witnessed along with 3/4 of the former Saintface (with whom I had enjoyable summits with).
Needless to say, everyone was impressed. Beers, Whiskey and Hawley makes for a kind evening. His band is quite tight and it was really really enjoyable. I ran out and bought his other albums cause there were a bunch of songs I liked, especially the set closing track, THE OCEAN, which is a killer and one of those tunes the Kidd would have wept to had his trip to France gone in a different direction. Hawley is worth the price of admission. Check it out.
Then, your hero RAN, yet again back to MOGworld to find sister in law and small nephew fully of energy after having spent 10 hours on the Amtrak. Then girlfriend came home from work and suddenly I had a whole lot of Bradish energy going on in my small apartment. I passed out.
Today the girls went shopping and drinking while the lads watched Nickelodeon, Christmas shopped, bought cds, and hit the Wii. Good times. Then we met up with the girls, ate some Korean, as they are Koreans supposedly, and now here we are chilling at home.
And the week begins.
F
Greetings from NY, the longest stretch on home turf in years. That's about to change, I believe, but you never know by the minute, the hour, etc. Let's get caught up to speed:
Thanksgiving was a quiet affair at my Aunts on Long Island. It was brief and quiet and delicious. The next morning, I hopped in my newly rented Ford Escape and took the trek up North to the great Montreal to visit the little man, who's toys have been in our house since August. It was a good trip, my first drive up there solo, so it was fun just rolling albums I haven't had a chance to give proper attention to, etc. Its hilarious how cold it is up there. It was literally in the high 50's and sunny and then suddenly, an hour before the border, shit turns grey and snow in full effect.
I was poorly dressed for the Canadians, but Col, Cam, and Yan, indulged me and let me be a lazy fuck. Nephew of course felt the need to wake me up at the early hours, and at one point even put a small dog on my head. Uncle limits were tested right there, but I got tons of rest, ate like a champ, played videogames and just clowned around. They have a sweet new pad as well, which made it fun. I knew going home on Sunday would be a huge error as I would be stuck at the border for hours and hours, so I took Cam to the schoolbus on Monday and then drove my ass back that morning. Smooth sailing.
Since then, I have been working and doing the usual (which means, waking up and not knowing what the fuck will happen by the time the day is over). Work is stressful, but the movie is looking awesome. I am so excited about it.
I went to B's one night this week, but my head wasn't totally in the game cause Cam was home alone and calling me nonstop. But B wisely turned the evening into a night of Dumont Burgers and album review. We got through a lot of stuff and the progress is insane. He worked with Bob while I was in Montreal and they had a super productive time. The tracks are huge and fierce, and even got Flatbread to play on the long gestating Sweetest Soul Remix. Flipping awesome work from Hartsdale's Own. He's brought it to the big time.
Friday night Irene took me to one of those Flavorpill museum things. It was classy. We had a few drinks and apps with Roger and his friend Rich, a student of good martial arts movies. This led to much conversation and me jotting down tons of titles for this guy to watch. He's gonna be dreaming of Johnnie f'n To. Anyway, at the event, Juan McClean DJ'd. No Jerry in sight, but the set was good. It was a chill evening and a good time. We were home mildly late.
Saturday was the highlight. Irene was home in the morning so we kept it lazy, ordered some brunch and cleaned the apt up for our incoming houseguests from the great north. Then she went to work while your hero brought it to B's and played what is just about my last round of bass for the album (minus the remaining song we need to finish writing). This was much more enjoyable than the trip earlier in the week where I was distracted. We got our shit done and then looked ahead to another song for a future release that we're dead excited about.
From there, I ran back to the city to get some food with my long-missed idiot convention. All are back from their respective travels and Danny-Boy (aka Penis Wrincle, yes that is how it is spelled), chose the Cambodian awesomeness of Kampuchea (78 Rivington St, New York 10002 At Allen St) for us to dine at. Danny described this as "Irene level Awesome" and man he was not kidding. I strongly urge you to get your ass there. Who the hell knew there was food this awesome in the Alcoholic Playground. I thought it was just a bunch of cunts and shit bars for assholes. Well even that couldn't last forever. Thankfully.
Why were we in this area? Well, asshole, it is because we had to get to the Bowery to see the styling of MR. Richard Hawley. He being formerly of Longpigs and Pulp and being currently an awesome fucking solo artist, I slipped his new album to the lads a few months ago and we all universally agreed amongst us idiots that this guy is the awesome we like. Danny nicely got my ass a ticket despite not knowing if my ass would be in town. Luckily it was, and luckily I went to this gig, cause it was fucking great. Hawley is funny in a dulli way but with less angst. He even called someone "gay". He played a super set that we witnessed along with 3/4 of the former Saintface (with whom I had enjoyable summits with).
Needless to say, everyone was impressed. Beers, Whiskey and Hawley makes for a kind evening. His band is quite tight and it was really really enjoyable. I ran out and bought his other albums cause there were a bunch of songs I liked, especially the set closing track, THE OCEAN, which is a killer and one of those tunes the Kidd would have wept to had his trip to France gone in a different direction. Hawley is worth the price of admission. Check it out.
Then, your hero RAN, yet again back to MOGworld to find sister in law and small nephew fully of energy after having spent 10 hours on the Amtrak. Then girlfriend came home from work and suddenly I had a whole lot of Bradish energy going on in my small apartment. I passed out.
Today the girls went shopping and drinking while the lads watched Nickelodeon, Christmas shopped, bought cds, and hit the Wii. Good times. Then we met up with the girls, ate some Korean, as they are Koreans supposedly, and now here we are chilling at home.
And the week begins.
F