chapters for my book

The Life And Times Of An Aging Indie Rocker (And Even More Aging Metalhead)

6. Dinosaur Jr. and Yogurt With Flax Seed Meal
in which our hero waxes nostalgic while searching for a good soluble source of fiber that's easy on his stomach.

7. I UsedTo Be Able To Take Drugs, Dammit!: Bad Brains and Lo-Dose Bayer Aspirin
in which our hero has a panic attack in a movie theater brought on by too much caffeine and finds himself in the hospital overnight.

kids in the trader joe's world

semi-sentimental story to follow: so this guy, this little man, comes into our store often. oh, we hide two stuffed lions for kids to find. he takes this very seriously and has followed me around the place mistakenly thinking i was also looking. so he came in today and for the life of him could not find either lion. he then proceeded to hound me for clues of which i had none since fuck if i knew where these lions were. all the time he's kind of flipping through this little notebook with a skull and crossbones on the cover. i jokingly ask him if he's taking notes on where he's looked already because i think it's funny to ask kids questions they really should have no business understanding. he says yes. as it should be the pad is full of what appear to be just scribbles. he goes on his way and i tell him if i stumble upon anything i'll let him know. he knows this already. so a bit later as i'm ringing up a purveyor of easy to cook mediocre food i see him trying to get my attention. i look at him, he walks up and hands me a scrap of paper. he tells me it's a map of the store. i tell him that next time he's in i'll mark on it where he might be able to find the lion. he seems pleased.

wyllt--black mat horseman

Tee Pee Records (http://teepeerecords.com/) is known mostly for it's
backward looking bands. From Witch's Sabbath riffs to Earthless's
Deep Purple/Blue Cheer blues freak outs it is easy to pigeonhole Tee
Pee as merely a purveyor of 70's leaning stoner rock. But Tee Pee
also is home to modern shoegazers Brian Jonestown Massacre and The
Warlocks. Los Angelese's Black Math Horseman
(http://teepeerecords.com/bands/black_math_horseman/index.php) live
somewhere between these two worlds while adding another few element
that actually took me by surprise: 80's goth and 90's post rock. It's
a combination that, at first, i wasn't completely sold on but, as with
the songs on Wyllt, my patience was eventually rewarded.
At first listen Wyllt may seem to be playing out in a fairly
traditional loud/quiet way, complete with chiming guitars and lumbering drums, but there are
disparate influences at work that keep you slightly off balance. You
may think you know what's coming next but often you are, at best, only half right. And what is essentially a metal record, complete with medieval imagery and song titles like
"Deerslayer" and "Torment of the Metals", at times unfolds with Slint
or Unwound type guitar play between Ian Berry and Bryan Tulao. Two
angular guitar lines work together almost by working against each
other. There are riffs, mind you, but played with a cool restraint
rather than ferocity. Add to this Sera Timm's vocals, icy and chant-like, always
hovering slightly beneath the plodding rumble. Only on the last, epic
track, "Bird of All Faith and None/Bell From Madrone" does she let forth some blood
curdling screams, making the effect all the more powerful after an
album's worth of constraint. All the while Sasha Popovic's drums rumble and gallop along as graceful as a stampeding herd of drunk elephants.
This all makes for odd, seemingly incompatible, alliances, as if the
band worshiped both at the feet of Sabbath and the Cocteau Twins. Black Math Horseman find a
way to turn it into very heavy and dark stuff. Lyrics decrying that "no one man is god's son" (Bird of All Faiths and None) and "i do not believe modern man is free" (Barren
Cause) add the final layer of gloom. Although not nearly as creepy,
Wyllt reminds me of Sunn0)))'s Dokirke, the album they recorded live at the Bergen
Cathedral in Norway with Attila Csihar of Mayhem providing vocals (operatic and disturbing to say the least). Obviously it is not as inaccessible as Sunn0))) (what is?) but the
feel, from the glacial pace and ringing guitars to the chant like
vocals and medieval imagery, makes Wyllt every bit as dark and
mysterious as Dokirke. Black Math Horseman's debut has the rare
quality of taking what seem like incompatible elements and creating
something very unique and oddly fresh. As is often the case, it just
might take a few listens to fully grasp this.

can metal police itself?

in talking it out online i came to the conclusion that, yes, it can. it's in the very nature of metal to protect and defend itself from false metal intrusions. you may remember some months back me fearing a wave of tongue in cheek retro indie rock metal. i was a'feared it was going to overshadow all the good, old style metal that is out there. i smelled pichfork championing this the way they embraced disco indie rock and all the other genre stealing indie rock acts (afro-pop i'm looking at you). now, months later i see that was not the case. early man, where are you? dead child? not a peep. metalheads are not easily fooled (except by pantera for some odd reason) and hold their metal to high and pure standards. their is not much of a "death to false indie rock" ground swell. i mean, besides by me. at least pretend to rock for fuck's sake. but death to false metal is every bit as ingrained in the culture as is, say, metal up your ass. god, i think i'm about to make a white sox fan connection here against my better judgement: being a sox fan is almost equal parts loving the sox as it is hating the cubs. much the same way, metalheads love metal almost as much as they love hating posers. it's hard to just be pro-metal without being anti-false metal. because it is never truly cool to be metal in the larger social scene. and i secretly believe metalheads like it that way. otherwise they would have let these hipster douchebags be the face of metal in order to gain acceptance. but, as far as i can tell, the shunning is complete. no more bullshit ironic faux iron maiden riffs coming from brooklyn. the one band to gain a certain amount of crossover appeal is mastodon and, well, they are fucking metal. ok, you'll argue against the sword and their wizard motifs and such. i will argue that their riffs are sweet and that metal has always had a nerdy underbelly. i still think they "get" it. they don't just ape it. the only thing that makes my argument tough is all the horrible 90's metal that clogged the airwaves and that still dominates headbangers ball. i chalk it up to 15 year old hot topic metal. look, i liked krokus for a hot second. there will always be bad music that caters to the lowest common denominator (or kids that haven't honed their musical chops yet). but, for the most part, metal denies trends. or at times can be ahead of them. or, hopefully, so far behind that it never has time to make an impact

the definition of narcissism...

...isn't spending half an hour reading your old blogs is it? because i think i just did. and if this weren't my own blog i'd think i were a pretty clever person with interesting takes on the small world i live in. i mean, that's ok, right?
here's a fear i didn't know i'd have: been real itchy the last fews days. in multiple places. you know and, really, i know it's most likely bug bites. but i've also had this mystery ache in my lower back and leg. yes, i'm talking about aches again. at least these are a new kind of ache. more flu like less atrophy related. anyways, this morning, while trying not to wake up but scratching my toe endlessly, i put two and two together and, naturally, concluded i had chicken pox. admittedly, even i thought this was humororously so "me". oh, me. still...

the gods were not amused

tried to force a little spring here with the semi-traditional cutting of the hair and shaving of the beard. some people pull out their flip flops at the first sign of the sun. i burn my underbrush. either way it is april 5th of so and i have longjohns and a quilted flannel on for my bike ride to work. good one, god. you truly are a powerful dude what with controlling the weather and such. if i may, you are also a fucking prick. have we not proven our midwestern heartiness enough? just because you can, man, doesn't mean you should. just saying...dick

keep going

i'm trying

i got $8 for my husband's gold fillings

i'm going to quiznos. thanks gold4cash.com!

maria informed me

getting into heated exchanges at 3am in the ukrainian village/edge of humbolt park might not be the wisest thing to do. fair enough. fair enough

drunk guy gets in a shouting match in front of my place at like 3am

hey, that was me. funny story: seems i was a little drunk (explained elsewhere to mean i was in a really good mood, felt fine physically, was with people i liked, and had 3 beers) when i rode onto my street, which is narrow, made more narrow by banks of snow. i live literally half a block in from the intersection but this guy, this suv motherfucker, feels the need to honk at me as i am getting over to dismount and carry my bike to my steps. as he passed (key point. he is now already passed me) i asked him where he'd like me to ride. i often ask this of folks that honk before even giving me a chance to try to move. little did i know this guy was an angry man. he yells that he does not care where i ride. i try to point out that i cannot ride anywhere but where i am riding for the snow and such. well he still does not care. at this juncture he is yelling at me while leaning out of his open door. as far as i can tell he is questioning my sexuality. he has deduced that i might be queer. i think it's all the bike riding. gay gay gay. the details of the continuing encounter are not terribly compelling. we go back and forth and i am unusally aggressive in trying to get to the bottom of this. at one point i tell him clearly we can't agree on anything and that maybe he should shut his door and just carry on. he was, i say, just in a big rush but now seems to have all the time in the world to tell me where he would like to shove my bike (hint: my ass). the thing i guess i don't realize is that it is 3am and i'm yelling on the street in front of my place. loud enough that when i get to the door kyle is there opening it. nice. for one night i got to be that "who the fuck is shouting?!" guy. cool

now that the election is over

and i don't feel compelled to watch msnbc every waking moment...i can catch up on my yes, dear viewing. now in HD!

hey guy that always has to stand up and dance at a show where everyone else is sitting

we get it. you are way more of a fan than the rest of us. the music compels you to stand up and shake your ass. and the sooner you recognize the song the more we marvel at what a big fan you are of the band that we thought we were really big fans of. you shame us. sitting, nodding our heads in rhythm. listening and watching is clearly not enough. if we can't wave or hands in the air and awkwardly try to high five our friend while they remain seated then we have proven nothing. we are posers. heaven help us if we try to get you to sit so every single other person there can perhaps see the show. who do we think we are? not real fans, that much i know. so, guy who is standing at a show where everyone else is sitting...guy encouraging us to do the same because clearly it is the path to fun...guy sitting down during the new songs that you are not familiar with but getting right back up when the 20 year old overplayed hit kicks in...you, sir are a maverick. a true original. no one does what you do. except the other guy at the other show. the one mouthing all the words. but you two, well, you and all the others at all the other shows, you are one of a kind.

a whole nother blog

i was about to rant and stuff about a commercial where a woman looks right at the camera (straight into my soul) and says..."whole nother". i imagined it to be "hole nuther" because when i hear nother i assume idiot. see, my spell check is underlining each nother i type. yet, this:
http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/nother

i don't want to sound like my uncle here but isn't "another" and/or "whole other" what we mean to say? i get the laziness. i get how it is easier to say. i get my hypocrisy because i use me and so-and-so because it just sounds less pompous than so-and-so and i. i get that i have completely undermined my argument by having it come out stream of conscious style. if i keep talking i might be able to come to a third conclusion. perhaps a whole nother me and so-and-so. well, i guess if you thought i was stubborn we have all learned not judge me so rationally. what i say and what i say don't always jive. still, that won't stop me from arguing that it does. or doesn't. depends on which side you take

i did not shower today

i fundamentally changed the smell of my body

i've been watching so much msnbc

henry paulsen was in m dream last night.

death magnet

yep. i'm 38 and i am about to say that at times the new metallica gives me chills. trust me, i did not think this would be the case. i had hoped that it would not embarrass me at best. yes, i take it personally. i won't go into it at length but i felt like the time could not be more right for metallica to regain some of their passed glory but also felt there was not a band more ripe to completely fail. i am therefor blown away that metallica has remembered all the things that make metal, shall i say, fun. i know what you are thinking but i stand by that. because big fat riffs and raging guitar solos and all that, when done right, just makes me smile, man. and to hear metallica, fucking metallica, remember at a time that i also remember, well, it gives me chills. fuck you.

that time you realize

man, i kind of just don't dig my face. i shaved myself clean and, after a moment of novelty, i just thought that i am not into looking at myself this way. other people have faces and they look fine. i used to walk around this way most of my first 34 years. now i think my mouth is too small and my eyebrows just alone hanging out on my forehead. maybe it's my need for symmetry. my sideburns are less fashion and more based on the notion that if my hair goes down in the back then maybe it should have a similar look on the other side of my ears. whatever the reason, one day later i am not clean shaven. i am in day 2 of growing back my beard.

"they can't all be gems" he said

after a particularly bad joke, "then you would know i was an alien from a much funnier planet"

summer of my boys. over?

really? 9 episodes make a season? but what about bobby? i mean, clearly he has feelings for pj but now that he's put that out there how does this fling (and come on, it's just a fling pj, i mean jack has the soap opera good looks but his self-deprecating humor is so not genuine) with jack affect their possible relationship? are things going to be awkward at crowley's? that is sacred ground. i was so invested and then to learn last week of this week's season finale it was like, well, like someone stole summer and replaced it with the olympics. where's the human drama in that?

i gauge temperature

not by how hot it is but by how solid or not my pomade is. today it is nearly liquefied. that's hot