More photos HERE»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»»>

And then there’s this:

Click here to view the embedded video.

But, oh, Japan!!

Affar used to walk me down to Shore Road in Bay Ridge and we’d sit on one of the benches there and have a vantage point of the Verrazano Narrows and the mouth of NY Harbor, and he’d point to giant tankers and cargo chips with his burly Norwegian finger and tell me this and tell me that. He died when I was 11 or so, and I was home alone when Tante Lillian called and told me that “Morfar has gone to be with the Lord.” I was aware of my lack of tears and sorrow … mostly, just confused, really … huh … and when my parents pulled up in the green Datsun 210, hatchback open for some lumber they had lugged from wherever, I jumped into the back and made them stop their slow and short journey backing up the driveway and feigned some good tears for my mother’s sake, I think. I remember my skin feeling weird and numb, like plastic.

There was never a shortage of milk at Mormor’s. Always pouring me glass after glass, tall thick glasses with diamond shaped etchings in them. Nice silverware on a cold white metal table, a small radio on a shelf above the salt and pepper, and a Lord’s Prayer plaque beside it. I would always play with her fancy cutglass perfume atomizer with the silky pump ball with fraying tassles, not really spraying perfume around, but just checking it out, so strange and foreign to me … mostly I remember the ring she stopped wearing, laying on the mirror counter beside the perfumes and powders … 4 square stones set in a thin gold band, different colors, pastely … pink, green, blue, and yellow … one for each of her children. When she died I was “living” at the Glenwood on Broadway and Marcy in Williamsburg, a $7 a night hotel for junkies, like myself, or for forlorn old men to die in … my brother found me there– I think I left a phone number with him once– and picked me up to go to her wake, and I made him stop at a Dunkin Donuts to use the bathroom, and I shot a good speedball into my neck and got back into the car and we continued on, and just before we got to the funeral parlor I looked at myself in the visor mirror and noticed the small bit of blood staining the collar of my dirty shirt.

May is going to be a busy month around here.  Finishing up the School Bus ”Blue Button” CD, mixing some Kochalka tracks, finishing up the Kochalka album, preparing for the very first School Bus live performance (May 17, w/ Swale at Radio Bean), Kochalka gig opening for Mike Watt (May 3, Higher Ground), tooth extraction (May 16), and finally, picking up Led LO/CO at the airport (always a fun job) and driving them to their marathon gigs at Red Square (May 9) and Nectar’s (May 24).

James Kochalka depicts me in his comics as a dog with a robot brain.  When we went to Oklahoma last year (which has become the subject of a tune on ”Blue Button”) we were presented by a girlie named Heather Peanut with sculptures of our characters.  Thanks, Heather.

So that’s what I’m listening to, but it’s another world out there now. Rob Zombie’s got a slasher film out and some former US general’s in charge of Iraq. People still say their prayers but I can barely stay awake and it’s only 6:30pm. We get old and fishtail like Vandross while Dangerfield can spend 20 years freebasing and still come the other side. Picture yourself on a boat on a river that’s dried up to a mere trickle…

As promised, that’s me on the right, with very much the same haircut I currently have.

Anyway, today’s the day that we finish the release of Renaldoh, March’s 3 inch (yeah, I know, but it’s been real hectic and busy around here, so fuck all). Very excited for Ryan Power’s May release. Hmmm…are we missing a month in there? Shit …

So the picture: not my tooth, but it is my hand. Poor little friend Autumn fell drunk and hit her mouth against a pool table and this is what we have to show for it (not to mention the ER doctor that now slinks around the bar we work at and keeps asking her out … fucking doctors).

So don’t stare at the sun, ok? But if you must, for Christsakes, keep your damned mouth closed.

so i was thinking about that night in burlington that we shut down three needs, broke glasses on the floor, had silly dances, and then a rendition of man bites dog … that was a good night!

She forgot to mention the final glass she tried to throw from the passenger seat of my car … she failed to notice that the window was closed, and threw a half-full Cape Cod at the pane of tempered glass separating her from the quiet 4am street.

Twas awesome. I miss that girl.

Friday was Cat Power.  Mmmmm…Chan.  All that shit people say about her, her rep for being difficult, I didn’t see much of that, maybe a few little hints.  But I don’t blame her, especially when most of the audience is loudly gabbing away throughout the entire show.  I don’t know what’s wrong with this town.  Shitty-ass grooverock bands like Deep Banana Blackout and Strangefolk get undivided attention, Cat Power gets a bunch of talkative hipsters there because Alternative Press magazine told them it was cool.  There was a war going on in my head between my concentration on her, and the relentless babble that raged behind me.  Fucking losers.  And another thing…where are all these 7-foot tall indie rockers coming from?  And why do they always have to be in the front row?  Hey, beanpole…your view of the stage will be great anywhere you fucking stand.  Aside from that shit, Cat Power was great great great, standoffish and pretty and flawless.  It’s too bad she definitely won’t be coming back here again.

Saturday we made the trip to Montreal to see Jackie O Motherfucker and Godspeed You! Black Emperor.  After getting a few rounds of beer and sushi we made our way to the club.  Nice place with a balcony.  Jackie O Motherfucker SUCKED.  No other way to put it.  It was just nothing.  I don’t get it.  Their albums are really good…after a few technical difficulties, Godspeed came out and just rocked.  It was truly exhausting, in the way seeing Lightning Bolt was exhausting.  The enormity of what was happening sonically was almost too much.  My brain was going into these weird zones where it was like being asleep.  They sound just like they do on their records, but being there and feeling the music hitting your chest is something else.  Fuck yeah.

Yesterday (Tuesday) we went back to Montreal to see Yo La Tengo at the Cabaret, which is such a nice little place to see a band, I’ve seen quite a few there now, GBV, Mouse on Mars, Mogwai…Portastatic opened and they sucked.  Superchunk were such a good band, I don’t know much about Portastatic, but it seemed like they were Mac’s Superchunk reject band.  The songs just weren’t good, particularly the lyrics, typical “hold my baby tight, hold my baby all through the night” type stuff.  Oh well.
YLT were great.  They can’t really fail.  And they’re so nice.  So talented and yet, so nice.  They actually like the fact that people like their music, no apathy towards their fans, although when one idiot started yelling “Freebird” Ira very cleverly suggested that yelling “Freebird” at concerts (which so many idiots do) might be the cause of SARS.  And yeah, YLT rock beautifully.  Although, again with the beanpole indie dudes in the front.  Fuck that.

So I feel like I’ve been on some sort of indie rock tour, except I’ve gone home to sleep in my own bed every night.  It’s cool.  I’ve seen a lot of amazing bands, amazing music in the last ten years or so.  I feel lucky.