Category: Life

Localist Winds Down

Four years ago, Natalie recommended that I contact her friend TJ about writing for a local free magazine he was starting called Localist. I did, and eventually wound up doing several CD reviews and a couple of features (the Boondogs piece is online, but sadly the Ho-Hum piece isn’t). It was great fun, writing for no reason other than the desire to spread the word on music I love (and to dust off my meager writing skills, long dormant since college). I find it amusing that interviewing those bands for free was probably more fun than interviewing some famous acts for money[1].

Eventually Localist‘s editor ascended to Arkansas Times, and suddenly I was freelancing for them. And getting paid! Not much, of course, but enough to put “freelance writer” on my résumé.

And so now TJ is discontinuing the Localist. He’s a busy guy with other projects. I can’t help but feel, though, that Localist has helped to solidify and galvanize the creative community of Central Arkansas. I know it worked wonders for me. Were it not for Localist, I know I’d have fewer friends and even fewer writing opportunities.

1.) It also made me realize even more that the music industry is not a meritocracy, and that every city probably has national-level talent. The only thing that separates the Boondogs from, say, The New Pornographers, is luck, timing, and a good record label.

Back in the ARK Times

I’m doing freelance reviews for Arkansas Times again. This week: my thoughts on the new album by The Good Fear.

Also, a fun story. I was sitting in the park yesterday reading a book, when I noticed a guy out of the corner of my eye suddenly stop. I looked up, and he was staring at the trees across the water from me. The bushes below were moving. Slowly ambling out of them and up the tree: four young raccoons and their mother. Over the course of about 10-15 minutes various passersby all stopped and looked, fascinated by this surprising development. It’s good of Nature to occasionally stop us in our tracks to remind us of its casual awesomeness.

Escape to Los Angeles

Here is the run-down on last week’s trip:

Tuesday – Landed, went up to this house where my cousin David‘s girlfriend was house-sitting. Turns out the house belongs to Hyde from That 70’s Show, and it used to belong to Chuck Berry. I touched a guitar signed by Chuck Berry! And I played bass by a hot tub in which I’m sure Mr. Berry committed felonies numerous and varied.

Wednesday – Went to the House of Blues to see two guitarists of whom I’ve been a big fan of since 9th grade but I’ve never seen them play live: Paul Gilbert and Richie Kotzen. And I was surrounded by LA guitar nerds, the ones who love to cross their arms and pontificate about who rules and who sucks. I’m glad I don’t live near them.

Thursday – David and I went to Amoeba Records to find my mom a Leonard Cohen DVD (she asked for it specifically because that’s how cool she is). Then we watched I Am Legend on David’s Blu-Ray hi-def wide-screen T-V and afterward we freaked out on Lost, ’cause it finally got back to Locke’s storyline.

Friday – I took the bus and walked all over town because I forgot that my Arkansas driver’s license expired in March. I let it because I figured, hey, when am I going to need to drive a car in NYC, right? Oops. Rental car agencies frown on expired licenses. I’ll get that taken care of next week, though. Anyway, I walked up La Brea, where I passed Jason Lee and his wife looking at furniture. I then had lunch at Barney’s Beanery where I sat a few booths over from Jason Schwartzman. After that I met up with my friend Meredith and we saw a really terrible band somewhere.

Saturday – Here’s a fun story. Some years ago my friend Randall gave me a CD by an Austrian guitarist named Alex Machacek (pronounced “MOCK-a-check”), and I became a big fan. He’s as underground as it gets, so few guitarists even know about him. To anyone else, he’s just another jazz-rock-fusion guitarist in LA, but to me he’s on a higher plane from pretty much every other guitar player I know. I’ve talked with him a few times via email and MySpace, and so last week I sent him a message asking him if he had any shows going on. He said he didn’t, but I was welcome to come over for coffee and hang out. So I did. He made me a couple fantastic cups of espresso and we talked about music and guitarists, and he gave me a guitar lesson. The whole thing really made me realize the dichotomy that is Los Angeles: most people freak out over meeting famous people, when perhaps they should be freaking out over truly phenomenal people – artists who do things few can, who push the boundaries of their craft, who represent the pinnacle of what can be achieved in a given medium. For musicians, Alex Machacek is such an individual. I uploaded one of his tunes to Muxtape, so check it out there. I don’t think I’ve mentioned Muxtape yet, so take a look at them, too. I have another playlist uploaded here.

That night, David and I went to see the LA Galaxy play the New York Red Bulls. I sat with the Riot Squad, the officially sanctioned corner of the stadium populated entirely by authentic football hooligans. Good times, even though the Galaxy lost. I told no one I was from NYC. For once it was better to say I’m from Arkansas.

Sunday – We went to see Rush in Irvine. I realize of course, as someone who is occasionally paid to write about rock music, that I am almost obligated to say that Rush sucks and progressive rock is a pox on the face of authentic rock and roll, but to that I say quite simply: Bite Me. If you can’t enjoy the refined Canadian flavor of Awesome that is Rush, then you can’t enjoy anything in life without wondering if someone is going to think you’re uncool.

Monday – Flew home. Took all day. Special note to Virgin Airlines: the little TVs in the seats are nice but $7 to see a movie on a tiny screen with headphones? $8 for airline food? No sale.
At least give me a bag of peanuts or something!

Here are some other photographic highlights from the trip:

Pink’s Hot Dogs are apparently spectacular
Billy Bob at Guitar Center?
Giant Magnatone amp on Sunset
The biggest Indiana Jones poster ever
99 Cent Store window display
Very old candy
Old Simpsons promo statues
Vintage Film editing console
Vintage Coca-Cola machine
GORT!
German Muppets
Bungalows
The 50’s live on…
…in Culver City
Refurbishing LAX

Where Are the Pastel Anarchists?

I was walking by an anarchist book sale[1] recently, and I noticed a surprising uniformity to the attendees’ mode of dress. Why is anarchism the only school of thought that has its own dress code? Given the tenets of anarchism, I would expect a much wider variety of clothing styles to go along with the “self-government” theme. Yet they all seemed to be wearing variations on black. Curious.

1.) Seems appropriate. I can’t imagine the anarchist book industry is very profitable.

Google Is Now Instantaneous

I was posting some new pictures to Flickr just now, and i wanted to name this picture after an old line from I Love Lucy. I typed in the title, and later Googled it to see if I spelled it right. I didn’t, but the #1 result in Google was THAT VERY PICTURE. Google now takes less than 14 minutes to update its cache.

I went to the office on Saturday to get some work done, but the weather was so nice that I gave up around 3 p.m. and just walked aimlessly around town. I visited a comic shop, bought some old back issues of Starlog magazine from my childhood, picked up some cookies and a beer and sat in a park in the Village. The streets were really alive with people for the first time. Or rather, alive with people who were on the street by choice, not because they had to be somewhere. The gelato stands were a feeding frenzy and park benches everywhere were packed. Every business’s windows were open, every outdoor table was full.

Later on I ambled my way to a coffee shop to set up camp by the open door.

Here are some of the photo highlights for the last week:

the last unicorn
amusing trash
my early morning transit ride
bear runs loose in Union Square
Fab 5 Freddy runs loose in Union Square
the privacy of homelessness
the complaints of homelessness
F stop symmetry
specializing in male DVD
clock tower one and two
nothing to see here

The Restorative Properties of Music

As many of you know, I’ve been under a great deal of pressure these last few months. I can honestly say it’s been the worst few months of my life. Of course, that’s not saying much. Every time I complain about my job, someone trumps me: my roommate had a friend in Tennessee who was recently murdered, my friend Holly recently adopted a puppy only to watch it run into traffic and be torn apart, and my friend Arika has severe back pain that makes life difficult for her being the mother of two very young children. So the universe continually presents me with healthy doses of perspective. If this has been the worst few months of my life, then my life is still pretty damn good.

Still, it’s all relative. I put in my notice at work. I have some other offers, but I’ll wait and see how they pan out before I say too much about them. My posts will most likely continue to be rare in the coming months. I will be back in Arkansas May 20-29 for Riverfest, though.

Meanwhile, here is a song that continues to lift my spirits.

I just noticed that, as of today, if you look at my Last.fm tunes in the right column, you’ll see this song, “Nine in the Afternoon,” displayed three times.

Saturday in the Sun

Finally the weather made it to the upper 50’s. I took a guitar and little portable amp to Tompkins Square Park to sit and play. I was only there for an hour or so; the fingers got a little cold. But I didn’t have to wear a coat! I also walked up Court Street and found some more gliders (cheaper this time, so I bought one). And thanks to daylight savings time, I can see the city better when I get home.

Lately I’ve been noticing things more on the ground – a dying flower, a spray bottle, and pairs of shoes and mittens. It’s rare that I find things left behind in pairs.

Also, a couple of weeks ago I got myself an early birthday present: I found a used Yamaha Ty Tabor signature model for just $300 at Guitar Center. Please, no one ask me how many guitars I already have. Tomorrow I’m 32. If I want to engage in excess, I’ve got an excuse.

My Father’s Son

I owe a great deal to my father: my obsession with music, my interest in theatre, my sense of humor, and several of my favorite movies are just a few things that I’ve taken from him. In fact, our similarities of taste are such that he requested a copy of one of my favorite movies of all time, Kicking and Screaming, for his birthday. While our tastes in music vary widely, there are some things in which we have a common interest, so I sent him Al Kooper‘s most recent CD as well. I would not be who I am today without him.

Happy birthday, dad.

Rainy Days Unenjoyed

I can’t hear the rain in this town. I have neither roof nor trees for it to hit. There could be a torrential downpour outside and I really wouldn’t know it unless I looked out the window. This is a strange, dissatisfying feeling for someone who enjoys a good rainy day.

And stress at work is amplifying. I’m going to get some work done from home on Sunday, so I’m trying to unplug it from my brain today. To do so, I spent some time this morning uploading some of my favorite older pictures to Flickr – pictures from Fayetteville, North Little Rock, Bryant, Harrison, and the Superflux studio sessions[1]. I also finally got around to posting the pictures of Last Chance Records, the place where music goes to die. I tell people to imagine the last scene of Raiders of the Lost Ark, but with records, tapes and CDs.

1.) By the way, the eventual final tracks from those sessions featured the producer, Barry Poynter, on guitar. My tracks didn’t make the cut. Which I’m fine with. It’s Steve and Cara’s thing; my heart wasn’t in it.