5/31/03 - 10:15pm (creative inertia)
Seems plenty of people around here are gearing up for the next level of their musical/creative pursuits. It's exciting to see so many people in so many different circles all putting out great work. And since I'm more of a support player for a bunch of casts vs. starring lead in my own production, I've been a busy little boy. Keeps my mind off of the soul-sucking lonliness and desperation combined with 31 straight days of rain.

In the studio today wth local session legends Tim Bierry, Jay Turner, and Dru Lore working on some tracks for Lynn Ward. The songs ranged from driving funk jam, to deep southern fried soul, to straight ahead standard gospel/rock/blues... there should be a name for this genre but I don't know it. Either way, was a great chance to use the Nord Electro on its own in a real studio and see how it feels versus a real Hammond/Leslie and Wurlie.

The Westcotts just wrapped up their latest EP/Demo and I was able to flex the Electro's muscles on that as well... here's a clip of Hammond and Clav sounds on Cissy Strut.

And in the strangest turn of events, I've begun doing some remix work with Jared Jones of Vibelicious Studios (inspired by the college-era noodling with Fertile Ground's "Peace and Love"). This has been submitted to Centaur records for consideration... possibly the gayest song alive in that, well, it's poppy trancey house, plus it's an Elton John cover, plus the singer is from the original cast of a broadway show. Ehh... when you consider the target market, I think that's quite alright.

Roy's EP is next, and Soul Source should be moving again soon as well. Too much to do, not enough time.
5/18/03 - 9:15pm (overdrive)
Well, last weekend wasn't the triumphant return. Maybe this weekend was. Beyond hot tubs, excellent band gigs... the bike is back on the road with a new wheel and tire... the rest of the damage is cosmetic and I don't care as much about it.

The new wheel and tire came from Ebay. Rather than wait to be shipped, I asked if I could go pick it up. That led me to a small farm out near the MD/PA state line. On it lived a group of disaffected mid-20s engineers. Sick of the mundane upper middle class lives they had (they all grew up in DC and attended St. Albans), they now spend their days building racebikes, growing vegetables and smokables, burning things, and firing weapons from their impressive arsenal... all on a few hundred private acres.

Truly impressive. The condition of the house and the smell of cat pee sort of took away from the total sense of utopia, but all told, you've just gotta respect the life.

Plus they let me squeeze off a few rounds from their AK-47. Whoooosh!
5/12/03 - 1:04am (new chapter, or same old crap?)
Well, maybe both.

This weekend didn't fare quite as planned... but it was enjoyable in its own special little way. You know, in that "well, at least I'm alive" sense.
5/04/03 - 2:30am (funerals, rallying, what matters)
a pretty amazingweekend... peppered with a surprising variety of emotional mojo for all sorts of reasons, but isn't every event that unites old friends?

some moments :
- leave work early friday, headed to Bob's dad's wake. Wakes are creepy, but it's good to be there with the family. T-tops off... sun shining... taking the backroads into West Virginia to avoid traffic. Old black woman in the car in front of me has a huge smile and seems to be talking to herself versus singing.
- doing my best at Tony's Pizza in Shepherdstown to keep the Irish Wake tradition alive. Everyone present seems to have had a really shitty year so far considering (or for some, just days), but all told, it was an excellent night with the most important friends.
- "Get that hambone!"
- Sara, you dodged a bullet.
- Having a complete breakdown somewhere around 3am back at the Moyers' house as the delayed feeling of loss from my uncle, both grandparents, and the shared comiseration with the Moyers all seems to stack up on top of the recent mounting feelings of lonliness and frustration. I'm sure the alcohol didn't help matters. It was a good cleansing breakdown, though.
- Waking up to Granny's smiling face. "We have donuts!" Then taking a walk around the neighborhood in the fresh morning mountain air.
- Trying not to laugh during the service when hymns/verses feature great keywords like, "the happy place", and "great purple-headed mountains".... knowing full well the Moyers are laughing. Then trying not to laugh while carrying the casket with the other pallbearers through the mazelike ridiculously narrow exit and gate of the church.
- The fact that the Sons of the Confederacy Harley club was having a ceremony (which could have totally been a ZZ-Top/Allman Bros. concert) at the cemetery as our procession pulled in was yet another detail that just seemed so ridiculously perfect for Mr. Moyer and his warped sense of humor.
- Feeling a need to get away for a while, wind up surrounded by closest friends in a different civil war-era graveyard hundreds of feet above the Shenandoah, looking out over the river valley and distant ridgelines.
- returning to the Moyers from dinner in Shepherdstown, Vance doing 80 into a 25mph curve. I figure he knows what he's doing and simply say, "Yeah, man!" We blow the turn completely, and at the apex I simply mutter, "Dude!" as half of the car is in the grass, about to graze a livestock fence. Chops the throttle, oversteers, counter steers, the car gets back in the road, and we just laugh non-stop for 5 minutes.
- t-tops off, stars shining, Coltrane's "A Love Supreme" playing in the CD player, taking all the backroads home in the dark of night... cosmically humbled.

My two favorite Mr. Moyer moments are :
- Sophomore year of college, I went and got an old Volvo wagon similar to the Moyers. Most useful, bulletproof things in the world, until the exhaust system rusts out. Picked Bob up one day for a day or hiking or something, car with essentially no muffler growling away as I pull in. Mr. Moyer pokes his head out and grumbles, "Oh... I figured either your Volvo needed serious help, or you somehow managed to get here in a new speedboat."
- High school geeks that we were, we had a LAN party for New Years '96, and I brought my new homemade subwoofer from my car to add depth to the explosions and gore. Mr. Moyer walks into the room with this... interesting attempt at a speaker enclosure I made to specifically fit my car and just grumbles, "d'you make that yourself?" "Yes." "Congratulations... [slight pause thinking master craftsman Moyer just gave me a compliment[ ... it's the ugliest damn speaker box I think I've ever seen."

An incredible man... who left behind an incredible family. Sorely missed, but fondly remembered by all.
4/19/03 - 6:26am (yes)
What's one sign you've had a great day? Putting on a greasy old jazz standard album and quietly, happily crawling into a warm bed just as the sun comes up over the neighbor's rooftop and peeks into my room.

After a completely workless week, I spent a few hours in the NASA Flight Dynamics Facility standing in awe of (and working on some of) the computers that make sure the Space Station is... well... there. Bolt out early catch "A Mighty Wind" (great, but a departure from the standard Guest mockumentary - more serious, more heart, less hilarious... but very good) early show with Bob and Krista ... then a Barnes and Noble stop (where I used the barcode-driven listening system - SO COOL - to pick out a phenomenal Rudy Van Gelder remaster of Jimmy Smith's "Groovin' at Smalls' Paradise" (originally issued 1957... when the B3 was brand-schmackin' new and the two-speed Leslie hadn't even been invented yet). Then we meet Kasima fresh from Thailand over at Mongolian Grill. Plenty of proteins, carbohydrates, and alcohol consumed. Then over to Q's pad for live mixing/music synergy spurred on by even more chemicals, then I drive the DiebelsMobile to Lemur Lounge until 2:30, then back to Qs for some introspection and conversation at a level attainable only by chemical or sleep-deprivation-induction. Slowly came out of that and transitioned into the requisite male bitching about girls and playing video games, then home listening to Jimmy play old standards... this was long before he even invented his trademark funk sound that carried him thru the 60s, 70s, and came back in the 90s. That got me thinking about how I was able to record him a few years ago in Boston. Not a lot of young cats can say that about old jazz legends, especially ones you truly look up to as musical mentors, especially especially ones that play obscure old instruments (that were brand-schmackin' new 50 years ago).

The festivities continue tomorrow. Bob's induction dinner (and Erika is in town! and Sara will probably stop by!) followed by a Roy show, and the acts sharing the bill sound quite promising.

Truly, a great time to be alive, young, and surrounded by people whom you really respect, and who respect you with no pretenses or apprehensions. What more can you ask for, really?

Well, sleep.
4/12/03 - 5:27am (i think there's a point - somewhere)
With all the social upheaval in my selfish little world lately, I've really developed an understanding of why I just have no desire to get to know some people (and mostly those of my generation).

I didn't feel it so much through high school, but it was definitely there in college, and built steadily. Mostly centered around the frat/sorority-type folks. Now in the real world, I jokingly just stereotype it as Northern Virginia (well, in truth, I never say that without "soulless" as a prefix). Actually, it could be anyone from anywhere, but I digress.

I spent tonight deep in the realm of the "other half" with Q. He and I donned our black sweaters and hair gel and dove head first into the epicenter : Clarendon Ballroom, Arlington VA. Generic trancey pop anthems pounding, hundreds of girls all ho'd up, hundreds of guys puffing their chests out and yelling loud expletives while trying not to look "too gay" all hanging out together.

It's the Maxim / Cosmo crowd. The folks that just don't get it. No depth. No soul. No core values. Nothing that really makes them happy. You can really see it from yards away. So long as they get adequately fucked up and take someone home who looks good, it's a successful night.

I feel bad feeling that way, but after talking to a few, even briefly, "What kind of car do you drive?" seemed to be the females' key discerning question. Don't even get me started on the battle for alphamale dominance (peppered by that one guy who thinks that being so outlandishly silly will get him all the attention he needs, but instead, he just dances a little too close and it more or less turns into the disturbing vision of clown date rape)

I mean, just going out and having fun and not caring is one thing, but this is completely different. It's not even like they're having fun or enjoying themselves. It's all just some kind of mission.

I don't know where I'm going with this. I really should sleep. Just got me thinkin', though. All of my friends have depth. Otherwise, why bother? But why is it that it seems the majority of those out and about on the town don't match that category? Why are there such large numbers of soulless, shallow, ego-hounds in our young quasi-urban post-college demographic?

Going way too deep for two drunk guys, Q and I whittled it down to a bunch of things, all of which sound startlingly conservative. Breakdown of the family, lack of demonstration of what good relationships are, what's important in life, etc... baby boomers were, after all, head-first in the "me" times of the late 70s - late 80s... then just about the time we all get out of college, the 1999 economy was a complete joke and we were being spoon-fed the same bullshit.

I don't know. It's the same thing that gets me angry when I see the booming upper-middle-class (or struggling to appear that way in the leased Benz and complete SeanJean wardrobe) young black population of PG county, and BET/MTV style pop culture in general fail to really appreciate the sacrifices and cultural pioneers that made them able to have all they have today and instead take on the attitude of blind entitlement (or continue to wave the banner of opression, but that's another story). I use that just because that's the example I pretty much grew up most affected by and see most often today... but thinking about it, that general idea relates back to everyone, frankly. I guess it's a very American mindset... who cares how we got here, why bother to learn and respect the past? The important thing is that we're here and we need to take whatever we can get and make ourselves look as good as possible, even if it means going against the core values and ideas that got us here in the first place.

Which, frankly, also explains why every community across the nation now looks the same, has the same amenities and architecture, etc. Why two-party politics are more of an entertaining farce than anything else. Why live blues and jazz have essentially been dead for decades (ok, somewhat arguable, but bear with me) and 500 sweaty people pack into a loud bar with an awful PA and for some reason assume that the DJ who is (poorly, at that) spinning records is somehow worthy of all the praise for the bootylicious beats. I guess you can extrapolate it out to anything, really.

I guess all of this ramble just comes down to a simple question : what the hell happened to "real"? To honor, respect, and admiration? Those things used to be earned, and once earned, recognition involved sort of a historic placemark that posterity could look back on. History means so little now. The concept of earning and any sort of respect that go with it is out the window. The ramifications of that are pretty staggering and go beyond the rise of TGI Friday's popularity, of course... but even that becomes pretty telling.

Hmm... sort of a chicken and egg thing developing here. Did the mass-commercialization of culture happen as a result of that developed mindset, or did it set the mindset in motion? Not that that's solely responsible, but another key player.

Ergh. I wonder if there's a way to really get through to the shallow/soulless/Northern Virginians/unfulfilled. When you really think about that existence, much less watch it from afar, it just seems awfully painful. If I had Bill Gates kind of money, I'd buy regular TV spots in between American Idol or Friends and just try to spell it all out slowly. History lessons, mapping out the development of our cultural freedoms and pioneers, brief exposes into sociology for the purpose of illustrtating the downsides to mass-culture... and lastly, an appeal to get people to just think for a few minutes about what truly motivates them and makes them happy. My hope would be that it isn't just owning a condo in Arlington, fucking a bony girl with fake breasts while listening to Ja Rule, and driving an M3. I mean... deep down...

FWIW, I just put on an old Stevie Wonder album (Fulfillingness' First Finale) and am now pouring over a 1924 Maryland road map I got on Ebay. See how much better I am than everyone else? That's DOUBLE respect and admiration for the past... plus you can even throw in a mild amount of longing for the art deco ARCO gas stations depicted on the map, or the sense of legitimacy and heartfelt emotion in a radio-friendly song.

Sing it, Stevie!

"'Where is your God?'
that's what my friends ask me.
And I say 'it's takin' Him so long,
 'cause we've got so far to come.'
4/9/03 - 9:47am (money shot)


After intense looting and firefights seem to be the norm elsewhere, the shot everyone's been waiting for is about to unfold in a public square in the heart of Baghdad. The toppling of a Saddam statue. Of course, the rope is frayed, the statue is robust, and the two guys up there stringing it all together aren't the strongest looking guys in the world. Some folks are content enough to just throw their shoes.

The networks are obviously all wet and ready to see that. Actually, there seem to be more cameramen in the square than jubilant Iraqis.

I particularly liked the protestors who obviously learned their English in England. "GO HOME YOU U.S. WANKERS!"

The idiot morning crew on Fox NewsChannel said it "was a touching banner to see". The pun was lost on them, as was the meaning of the banner, apparently.

Hahahha... Christiane Amanpour, "Umm... I think this might take while. People build statues pretty solidly..."

Flipping around to Comedy Central, they were showing the final toy battle scene from Robin Williams' "Toys". Oddly fitting, fittingly odd.

New banner on the bottom of the CNN screen : "Citizens use hammer, rope, to topple Saddam"

So that's all we needed... oh well. Next time.

[10:08am]
hahahahaha... now they just decided to bring in a US tank to pull the damn thing down. Paula Zahn : "Well... it looks like they finally realized the rope and hammer weren't gonna cut it."

4/1/03 - 3:51pm (fair and balanced)
direct screencap of today's washingtonpost.com :

missile? MISSILE?

3/30/03 - 2:43am (wah wah wah)
I'm a little bitch tonight. Woke up with a vivid dream of really good, long gone things from the past, and have been in a sentimental/unsatisfied funk all day since. Plus, it's been raining, so I couldn't really work on the bike, which will be a huge shot of endorphins once it's up. Just got to thinking about the current state of my life with a negative slant for some reason...

Oh well... I figured I had salvation in my evening gig at Bangkok Blues. Nope... didn't go so well (to my ears - variety of reasons, primarily it was just too loud and that's never fun... but also, I kept getting hit on/harrassed by a rather rotund 55 year old woman who was drinking herself silly and it was evident that my nicely brushing her off was making her feel hurt... that was just disturbing all around), so I didn't make the extra effort to enjoy it anyway. On the way home, I kick into girl mode and think "some good fresh cookies would at least make the day salvageable". The 7-11 near me sells cookie dough. Perfect.

Put 'em in, go downstairs, put on Weather Report's "Mysterious Traveller" which always gets me thinking on a hopeful, progressive, if somewhat abstract tip... then proceed to get lost in the album, after 15 minutes I hear the smoke alarm.

I CAN'T EVEN MAKE FRIGGIN' COOKIES.

I'm just going to let the album keep playing and get some sleep. That's where I'm a viking!

3/27/03 - 3:16am (brought to you by kotex)
Slaving away on a NASA video presentation that's due... tomorrow...

I hate using royalty-free crap music in these things, and decided to make some squeaky-clean, soft-edged, easy listening theme music of my own for the piece. I think I hate myself for simply being able to do so.

The "ears" links keep breaking. They're back to normal. Listen to the crap I used to make. Wow, this is kind of jarring. Mike Roy! Save me! Let us begin production on the new EP pron-to!

Next on Lifetime...
3/21/03 - 5:11pm (DJ Shock and MC Awe kickin' it)

Not much to say. OK, well a little bit.
War is bad. I think everyone can agree on that. The case for this one wasn't really all that clearly set out, and no one can deny that there are certain business interests driving much of this (by the names of, say, BP, TexAEMoboxxonOlCo, Halliburton, etc - though that's not to say France and Russia weren't in it for the money either). But Wolfowitz hasn't been in it this long just to make a buck. If the right spin is correct, and we're planting a seed of stability and democracy in that region (and cheap oil, of course)... while taking out a completely looney dictator, why is that overtly wrong? It's all in the details, of course, and we haven't been given many. But the loudest of the protestors sure as hell aren't making much sense either.

- "1,2,3,4... we don't need your racist war!"

Huh?

- "You're listening to a Pacifica Foundation / WPFW special report : 'Attack on Peace'"

Hussein's regime was such a peace loving bunch. Nothing wrong with bringing in a left view, but make it make sense at least. Stick to playing jazz.

I don't know. Pushing out the Taliban was easy... they weren't there for too long, everyone secretly hated them (all they wanted was to dance, dance, DANCE!)... plus we had the whole world on our side. I just can't see this as being that easy. Sure the folks on the rural outskirts of the country are caving in... but when we put people on the ground in Baghdad, God knows what kind of effort it's going to take to bring a modicum of order. And, since our flag-lovin' grunts mean well, but don't really have the class it takes to put folks at ease are going to be the ones on every streetcorner, I can see how citizens of Iraq could get crossed messages.

Time shall tell. Either way, I think Ronald had it coming.

3/18/03 - 6:05pm (new levels of absurdity)
It's been a while since I've taken a sampling of great quotes from the newspaper. Here are two :

"I don't give a damn no more," Watson said. "If this is the way America will be run, the hell with it. I'm out of here. I will not surrender. They can blow my ass out of the water. I'm ready to go to heaven."

and

Samarai and his friends quoted the words of Maj. Gen. Stanley Maude, the British commander who entered Baghdad in 1917 to end Ottoman rule. The phrase, famous among Iraqis, translates as "We came as liberators, not as conquerors." Maude soon died of cholera and was buried in Baghdad. The British, they noted, remained in Iraq and in control of its oil for decades.

"That's exactly what Bush said. Exactly the same sentence,"


Ugh. Who knows what's next? At no point in this have I really stopped to think about the flourishing art and music community that exists in Baghdad. Has anyone? Not that that changes everything, but we never really get shown the day to day lifeblood of foreign "rogue" cities.

And in our own little burg, I just love the tractor-protester for breaking the tension and/or elevating this week to a previously unforseen level of absurd. If they kill him, it's all over.

I guess he's probably crazy... but I still have this sentimental sympathy for him. His fight would have been so much cooler if he garnered press attention in NC, drove the tractor all the way from his farm, and parked it, say, on the Mall itself, or the front steps of the Capitol.

I guess some other time, he may have attracted some support. I don't know. It's just amazing. And the week is far from over...

3/15/03 - 2:02pm (Loggy Dog)
My creativity is like the late-90s economy, baby!

In addition to the Jesse gig, and the Roy gig, last night I brought the MicroKORG over to Q's house and we laid down a mechanized electronic assault on, well, his neighbors. The police came. The mark of any good Friday night at home. But it was good. DJs should collaborate with live musicians regularly. Adds an air of, oh, legitimacy to their "artistry".

The Roy show was good stuff. Jenelle's friend (I didn't get her name) and Kasima tag-teamed on being kind enough to hold my MD recorder relatively steady for our set to preserve it. Here are three tracks : She's Gone, This Pearl, Old Scratch. Enjoy!

IT'S TOO NICE OUT. I HAVE TOO MUCH CRAP TO DO. I HAVE NO MOTIVATION. Ugh. OK, laundry is my priority, and it's time for me to do some folding... one step at a time.

Pix from the Roy show to be up soon. Off to a video gig for some wedding reception, than back up to Baltimore for studio time with Drew.
3/11/03 - 1:05am (no mo' drama)
I love junior high flashbacks.

The week my month and a half of Space Shuttle Columbia data backup and impounding ended, I also managed to close the book on all the emotional and mental crap surrounding the breakup that technically started many months ago, but sort of became real around new years'. All told, I think 3 months is pretty good time, especially for some sentimental pansy like me. But throw both of those events together, mix it around with a surge of creative projects and free time, old friends who have returned to the area, and I feel like a completely new person all of the sudden.

Anyway, big news : Mike Roy and "the boys from the album" will be playing in Baltimore at The Talking Head on Thursday nite, 10pm. Come get your fill of wholesome postmodern indie rock western country folky goodness.

And come out to Toulouse on Wednesdays in Adams Morgan in DC. We need more party people. Damn DC crowds seem to be getting more uptight (probably as "the war" approaches).

Ugh. Don't get me started.

I never thought I'd be rooting for a Democrat, but go Dean. My views may chance as more dirt is flung, but for now, he's definitely my vote for '04. I even switched affiliations just to be able to vote for him in the primaries. Quick, someone prove to me why he's a horrible person. Oh that's right, you can't.
3/05/03 - 1:05am (whooooooooooooo)
I have beads. I saw a great band play live in a big uber-pop club where no one cared about the band. I got beads. I danced with a cutie. Forgot how great that felt. I ordered a shot of jack and got a Dixie-cup full. Then Jack and I went to the club where my blues career really started (and I first met Jack... awww), and sat in with Detroit Slim and City Heat. Got comped a Boddington's there. Wheeee. I'm not Catholic, but happy friggin' fat Tuesday!

My STS-107 shuttle science data gig ends tomorrow (hopefully)... will be the end of one of the darkest chapters of my life. Probably because it combined with some rough crap to begin with... but either way... spring's on its way.

Funk it up-