g.g.

Mar. 13th, 2009 11:04 am
jes5199: (Default)
me: are we gonna hear some new songs tonight?
Stephan: well, you're gonna hear some new equipment... there's a new guitar, I've got a new amp, and AnneMarie's bow has hairs on it now...




Stephan: I've been bitching all week that my friends are too old and boring to come to a rock show, but now that I'm here I've realized-- rock shows suck. Who wants to sit around in some bar at midnight on a thursday night listening to these worthless bands? Good shows are far too scarce for how many people want to be in a band.
jes5199: (Default)
oh
where
have
you
gone
and
do
you
miss
me
and
what
we
used
to
do?
You
were
the
one
Who'd
talk
and
smile
for
a
half
an
hour
Always
new
I'm
the
lucky
one
I
watch
a
re-run
It
looks
alot
like
you
One
star
lost
a
family
One
family
lost
a
star
That's
why
I
wait
and
watch
To
find
out
where
you
are
One
family
lost
a
star
One
star,
they
lost
their
family
That's
why
I
sit
at
home
alone
and
watch
t.v.

I've heard
- but cannot find evidence for -
that there's a form of
black radio propaganda
used during invasions
where you set up extra radios
barking random orders and reports -
some to the enemy, some to yourself -
in hopes to sow confusion about what's
actually going on.

To be in a car with my mother
is like having one of these stations
blasting at full volume.

when this ICFP thing
is over, I need to give up caffeine.
I just drank an entire french press.
That was my breakfast.

a Rasputina show is a sort of comforting
thing, in that it's very much
the same show every time.
(the other band that has this property is Ginggang,
who also wear corsets)

I miss Zoe,
though, it's not quite the same
without her voice.

she says
I'm phasing out this looping device-- I bought it right before they stopped making them
and it's starting to show its age
when it gets hot on stage, it stops responding to the buttons
I demand complete obedience from machines!
and there's nothing I can do but turn it off
and hope it works when I bring it back up.
the first big show I ever played solo, when I was opening for
Imogen Heap is the other other inexplicably-corseted musician
that I never tire of.
this is my choir of me's.

I just sing and 

         har-
play the     mon-ies
         har-mon
play the        -ies
                 
play the har-   -ies
             mon

I should have realized that Immi's electronically aided solo would become a show-off piece for college choirs. Now if only someone would arrange an orchestral version of
The Great Destroyer

Imogen Heap
this happened, and power cycled the machine and had to wait
and when it was ready for me to play,
I suddenly couldn't remember any of my songs.
So I improvised, and what came out was this song.
It's called "Don't Worry"

Z a   e   i   o   u      X a   e   i   o   u
a zaa zae zai zao zau    a xaa xae xai xao xau
e zea zee zei zeo zeu    e xea xee xei xeo xeu
i zia zie zii zio ziu    i xia xie xii xio xiu
o zoa zoe zoi zoo zou    o xoa xoe xoi xoo xou
u zua zue zui zuo zuu    u xua xue xui xuo xuu


the first time I saw Rasputina play was at Dante's
in 2004, during the crazy time
that had me wandering around Portland alone and confused
until I started sleeping on the SalutCouch,
which was the beginning of everything that is good about my life now

this is the same show where Brian Enigma met the woman he eventually married

but I didn't speak to anyone, that time, I had a kind of contempt for the crowd, actually
they were almost entirely the sort of stoic, stolid goth kids who suck all of the fun out of a room

monday's show was entirely different, in that respect. I found myself sandwiched between a former co-worker (be the good justin you once were!) and a guy I recognize as a friend of Seamus's who comes to the Sinfonietta (who, despite gray hair, was entirely rocking out to the cellos). Zeo was there, with a dramatic new haircut. There was a familiar, prim, gothy girl whose face I could not quite place (for a while I thought it might be Aria from the defunct Dutch House) that I now think might have been the waiter from Cup & Saucer. one of the Backspace baristas was there. Matteo and Shannon stopped to talk to me on the way out "I can't believe you're here alone! Where's [gesture]?)
(Shannon consistently uses this hand signal, instead of a name, that seems to mean [livejournal.com profile] anonamyst. or maybe it just means "shorty" . An approximation of 5'3" )

I did not see Antique Dress girl with her bearded boyfriend, who are the only people - besides me, and now Shannon - who seem to go to both Rasputina and Ginggang shows.

One thing never changes, though. Melora tells the same fucking joke, every time.


solfege mednafen jbofihe
are three names I need to be able to type,
but can never remember.

at the Vita Cafe, [livejournal.com profile] fixedd and my parents were talking loudly about things back in Alabama, when someone at the next table piped up: "Alabama! I'm from Alabama!"
My dad mistook her for another tourist, and tried to talk about the weather back there.
She was actually a refugee, like us, but - i think - from the Wren Dogget circle of yoga teachers (rather than the 20somethings-seeking-freedom group). and I think about them and I realize that something that we have in common is that we all passed through Mobile-- we are all Mobile Kids-- we have become mobile.

I have new shoes. You voted for 'em.

new drawings, uneven quality )

March 2016

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