Category: entertainment

I’ll tell you in earnest, I’m a dangerous man

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For some reason, all these years I’ve never seen Richard Thompson. Finally – thanks to ticket-pusher Chris (also know as Papa Christo), I saw him last night. I told Chris he’s GOT to keep buying tickets; I never go out to live shows anymore unless someone else plans it. Some of my friends have seen […]

For some reason, all these years I’ve never seen Richard Thompson.

Finally – thanks to ticket-pusher Chris (also know as Papa Christo), I saw him last night. I told Chris he’s GOT to keep buying tickets; I never go out to live shows anymore unless someone else plans it.

Some of my friends have seen him dozens of times. I figured, there must be a reason. But you know, some of the same people saw The Dead literally hundreds of times; so who the hell knows.

Turns out – which is not a really big surprise – that they were right about Thompson. He’s fuckin’ brilliant. It’s hard to say for sure, but he may be the best guitarist I’ve ever seen actually playing live (I’d have to go way, way back in my memory to be sure, but he’s close anyway); but more importantly, he’s the kind of performer who makes you feel like you’re seeing something brand new every night. I just bought my tickets to see him play again in december, and I have the feeling it won’t be the last time.

Here then is what just might be the greatest motorcycle song ever, and certainly the only love song I can thing of about a boy and a girl and a motorcycle – 1952 Vincent Black Lightning.

This is pretty much exactly how it sounded last night, outside in the open air at the Mountain Winery.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AxKTzwaEa2o]

Lyrics after the break, below.

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Crowded House

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Crowded House, last night, Mountain Winer above Saratoga, CA. The air was smokey from the massive grass file in the Cupertino hills, but it didn’t stop the band from playing a fantastic set. I wish I had tickets to a second night – and when we realized how good our seats were, we really, rally […]

Crowded House, last night, Mountain Winer above Saratoga, CA.

The air was smokey from the massive grass file in the Cupertino hills, but it didn’t stop the band from playing a fantastic set. I wish I had tickets to a second night – and when we realized how good our seats were, we really, rally wished we’d brought more than phone cams. This is how close to me, I didn’t enlarge or crop this pic.

These guys a great live. They made a fan out of me.

Crowded House

That’s when I reach for my revolver

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Once I had my heroes Once I had my dreams But all of that is changed now They’ve turned things inside out The truth is not so comfortable, no And mother taught us patience The virtues of restraint And father taught us boundaries Beyond which we must go To find the secrets promised us, yeah […]

Once I had my heroes
Once I had my dreams
But all of that is changed now
They’ve turned things inside out
The truth is not so comfortable, no
And mother taught us patience
The virtues of restraint
And father taught us boundaries
Beyond which we must go
To find the secrets promised us, yeah
That’s when I reach for my revolver
That’s when it all gets blown away
That’s when I reach for my revolver
The spirit fights to find its way
A friend of mine once told me
His one and only aim
To build a giant castle
And live inside his name
Cry and whispers sing in muted pain
That’s when I reach for my revolver
That’s when it all gets blown away
That’s when I reach for my revolver
The spirit fights to find its way
Tonight the sky is empty
But that is nothing new
Its dead eyes look upon us
And they tell us we’re nothing but slaves
That’s when I reach for my revolver

— My Revolver, Mission of Burma – play it.

get that German slut from the kitchens, will you?

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I just, finally got around to watching the second season of Rome (at least the first episode of it). I’d forgotten how brilliant this show is. Five, maybe ten minutes in, I was right back there, and by the end, I was Titus fuckin’ Pullo, savage, bloody, unbeaten, enemies at my feet. This show makes […]

I just, finally got around to watching the second season of Rome (at least the first episode of it).

I’d forgotten how brilliant this show is. Five, maybe ten minutes in, I was right back there, and by the end, I was Titus fuckin’ Pullo, savage, bloody, unbeaten, enemies at my feet.

This show makes me want to snarl and roar and swing a sword.

God dammit, where’s my slave girl, my wine skin, my blood-spattered tunic. I’m ready. Get me a goddamned time machine. This man isn’t just a character like I want to write; in my head, he’s the character I am. To steal a quote from an entirely different place, I had the rotten luck of being born in the wrong century.

I should have been a roman. I should have lived in a time when you were invited to an orgy, not a cocktail party. Where you wake up and send for a slave girl (“Go get that German slut from the kitchens, will you?”, as Atia says), where you can solve a problem by spilling blood. Fuck therapy, let’s try killing.

That world makes sense to me. Far, far more than does this one.

I can’t wait to delve further into this season; though as with Sopranos and Deadwood, I think I’ve resisted the watching because I don’t want it to end. Such things need, emotionally if not dramatically, to run off into the horizon. I do not want them finite, even if they’re better for ending before we’re ready.

Pullo can’t die. Ever. The curtain may fall on him, but he must remain, bloodied, but unbroken. Rome may fall, emperors may die by the knife or the sword, but Pullo needs to stand at the end. He’s just that kind of character.

come together

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Because when you’re at the end of your rope you should always play Spiritualized at maximum volume: [youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R-BeDy1FtJs] I’m not kidding now, maximum volume, until your brain bleeds. The odd thing about this video is that J spaceman is standing up and facing the audience. Normally he’s nowhere near this interactive.

Because when you’re at the end of your rope you should always play Spiritualized at maximum volume:

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R-BeDy1FtJs]

I’m not kidding now, maximum volume, until your brain bleeds.

The odd thing about this video is that J spaceman is standing up and facing the audience. Normally he’s nowhere near this interactive.

Pink Floyd at Pompeii

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I bought the DVD of Pink Floyd: Live at Pompeii (The Director’s Cut) a year or so ago, but it managed to get filed away in a stack of kids DVDs and I’d forgotten I had it. I was looking through my DVDs last night, trying to find something better to watch than re-runs of […]

I bought the DVD of Pink Floyd: Live at Pompeii (The Director’s Cut) a year or so ago, but it managed to get filed away in a stack of kids DVDs and I’d forgotten I had it.

I was looking through my DVDs last night, trying to find something better to watch than re-runs of house that I’d already seen, and I found said DVD. Given that I was hopped up on goofballs for the throbbing pain behind my cheekbone (I admit it, it was an excuse. My tolerance for meds is so high that they don’t make it not hurt, they just make me not mind the hurt), I decided it was a perfect film to watch.

A little background. I saw this movie when I was about fourteen, at a midnight movie (remember midnight movies?) in Los Gatos, California. These were the days when midnight movies and rock concerts were a dope-smoker’s free for all, so no one cared if we lit up. People used to bring five foot tall bongs to these things. So it was a very stoned, very tripped out crowd. We’d either find an older brother who could drive, or we’d call the parents (mine, usually) who didn’t mind us being stoned.

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Flavor of the Month

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I was listening to this today, played at huge volume in my truck with the windows all open, as I sucked down a cà phê sữa đá. It’s one of those songs that just makes me happy. Flavor of the Month, by the Posies. Play It. But don’t even bother if you can’t crank it […]

I was listening to this today, played at huge volume in my truck with the windows all open, as I sucked down a cà phê sữa đá.

It’s one of those songs that just makes me happy.

Flavor of the Month, by the Posies.

Play It. But don’t even bother if you can’t crank it way the hell up.

Supernatural

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I keep meaning to post something about my favorite show on network teevee – Supernatural – and not getting around to it (and even posting this has taken me several hours due to the relentless interrupts and (not-the-fun-kind- of) distractions). Luckily, someone else did it for me, saving me the effort. Chelsea Girl says: “Supernatural, […]

I keep meaning to post something about my favorite show on network teevee – Supernatural – and not getting around to it (and even posting this has taken me several hours due to the relentless interrupts and (not-the-fun-kind- of) distractions).

Luckily, someone else did it for me, saving me the effort.

Chelsea Girl says:

“Supernatural, unlike Angel and Buffy, is specifically concerned with family connections and origins. While Angel gestures at his long-dead family, his anger at his repressive father and his guilt over his murdering them, and while Buffy evolves from adolescent at war with her mother, while she retains the pain of her father’s abandonment, and while she grows into being a mother to her sister, the two brothers in Supernatural never leave the burden of their family. In fact, who they are in relationship to each other and to the rest of the world underlies the show every single moment. You never forget that they are brothers or that the demon they seek changed their family forever.”

“In many ways, then Supernatural’s metaphor is one of family origins and secrets—of those things from which you were supposed to be protected in the dark—and of which you, piteously small in your narrow bed, always knew were out there lurking and waiting to spring to light.”

Darling, sweet Chelsea Girl does way better justice to this show than I can. If you’ve managed to miss Supernatural so far, or if you’ve only watched an episode or two and written it off as a Buffy knock-off, it’s time to go back and give it a try. Rent it from Netflix, or better, buy it, because it’s a show worth owning. The episodes are good for many re-watchings. Season two is due for a fall release (too long, too long!).

Supernatural’s just been renewed for a third season, and I can’t be happier about that. It’s the kind of show you just get hooked on; great looking characters, great music (the best seventies rock), the coolest car on teevee (a black ’67 impala); a buffy-style mythos about those who stand between us and the evil thinigs that lurk unseen. It’s one of those shows that gets better the deeper you get into it, and it didn’t have the dreaded sophomore slump you see in some shows after great first seasons (*cough*veronica mars*cough*).

I’m saving the season ender on my tivo. I don’t want it to be over quite yet.

time and dreams

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I woke up from a weird, red-wine inspired dream about people I think I used to know. It was strange, and disturbing, and I think vaguely sexual, though it faded away all too quickly before I could digest who or what I was dreaming about. I woke feeling spacey, though, and not only because of […]

I woke up from a weird, red-wine inspired dream about people I think I used to know. It was strange, and disturbing, and I think vaguely sexual, though it faded away all too quickly before I could digest who or what I was dreaming about.

I woke feeling spacey, though, and not only because of the cold from which I’m recoovering, and last night’s bottle of saddleback merlot.

I woke, though, with with Gillian Welch’s Time (The Revelator) stuck in my head; not Welch’s own version, but my friend Ken’s brilliant cover (about which I’ve written before, though alas, he’s never recorded it, so I can’t link to it), a song of soaring beauty and intensity, at least the way Ken does it, and a song which winds up seeming to mean so much more when sung than the lyrics seem to say when read. Funny how music can do that to words.

I wanted to go back to bed and seek the dream, figure out who or what or where was in my head, but coffee called me and the need to get to work made a return to bed impossible.

Now, nine hours later, I’ve still got Revalator going thought my head, and I still want to go back to bed and chase that dream.

beauty in your fading kiss

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My friend Kenny – after sharing with me the evil that is the sake bomb, and then engaging in karaoke until the sushi bar kicked us out – played me his latest recordings. I attempted to post something about Kenny last year, when he left to chase true love in the outback. I found the […]

My friend Kenny – after sharing with me the evil that is the sake bomb, and then engaging in karaoke until the sushi bar kicked us out – played me his latest recordings.

I attempted to post something about Kenny last year, when he left to chase true love in the outback. I found the topic daunting, for Kenny’s that sort of friend. But Kenny’s now back from theland down under and has been recording sweet, sad, beautiful songs.

Here, without his permission (because I never ask), is one of his latest demos (I typo’d that as ‘demons’ which seems to fit eerily well); Kiss. Listen: Images

You can hear Ken’s older stuff at basement3.com, though what he does now is vastly different that the older cds; you can hear a couple more tracks like kiss at sonicbids.com.