Black Flame Benefit show report

I showed up early and nervous, had a tall can, and set up my table. The start of the show was delayed, I was getting antsy to play, I had another tall can. Looking around the spot I decided to play all acoustic. This venue had a stage and I couldn’t picture me up there and the crowd far away. When it was time to start I tried to get people up close. Half of the people don’t ever want to listen to the same on ,”all you people in the back come on in the water is fine,” schtick. So instead I tried to explain that the microphones use electricity and may shock me so I am not going to use them and if they want to hear some music they got to come on over.. Everybody that was ever in a band and at a punk show you have to assume that is everybody can be sympathetic to that I think. The goal I set for this show was to attempt to be more energetic. I played standing, which with my back is a chore and tried to bring some energy with it. Made a joke by stopping at the middle of a song got an applause and then played the 2nd verse. A string broke.. no .. went from performance mode to guitar tech in 3 seconds flat. Cursed the god of the A string, restrung, tuned, and was ready. The set was going nicely enough, until I noticed that more people piled in but where hanging in the back area. I decided to move the set to the rest of the crowd, went over there stood upon a park bench and played the next song. So far so good, maybe I pulled this off? Some banter with someone about his beer being shaken on the table, banter about nachos on the table. A beer can flew by my head, I changed the lyrics of the song I was playing to include the beer can. Finished up with another song and that was that. I find it funny that someone threw a beer can at me. It takes an acoustic guitar to make punks act like how people are meant to act when forced to listen to punk. There is some irony in this. The bands where pretty dang good. Dead chaplain knows how to make burnt toast sound like some good blackened crust. I met some good people from A//Typical who live in the next town over and happen to play an awesome brand of peace punk. Suburban moms played a great set, the energy was really good with this band the singer really caught me. All in all a good show.

Stuck in a rut.

How to start off a rant on writers block better than using a cliche in the title? Correction not really writers block but more associated around the neighborhood of writers overly critical, impatient, and lazy habits. I have been working on a few things and everything that comes from it I feel the need to strike out and write crap underneath. I have had moments in which I felt that I couldn't do wrong, moments when inspiration was spent looking for a pen, and days of drought. I go to attack the paper with a thought and find a mirage. It is laughing and recedes into the blankness of the page as wind kicks sand in my face.

House show report 4/10

While talking to Spanky the topic of the goal of musical pursuits came up, I stated that, having the free time to write, the therapy from screaming, and the ability to play somewhere once a month or so would be ideal. Reflecting upon this conversation I decided to make an attempt. I wrote an note introducing myself and/or asking for assistance and sent out a bunch of messages on the space book. The opportunity to play came rather quickly. The DIY community was willing to help. The show went off pretty well. I have been working more on playing slower and to sing coherently. I heard this advice many times but in the spirit of storytelling and Bukowski, I am going to say I took the advice from a drunk man at a bar. I played my set and while the room filled then emptied while the songs came out. It seemed those who stayed were into it. Three things happened that make the show a success. One, I was asked to play another show. Two, a few people told me that they liked the songs. Three, To explain this one you need to know how I table. I lay out the cdrs, stickers, buttons, pamphlets, a legal size notebook for comments, a sign stating the price is on a sliding scale from 0 to anything, and a tofurky box with a whole in the top for money to be dropped into. Someone put in a 5. I got the 5 walked it over to the touring act and got a cassette.

70 seconds

I have been working on a song about the Keith Vidal story for some time, recording it felt pretty good. If you don't know the story here is a brief rundown of events, Keith suffered from mental illness, his family called 911 during an episode, 2 cops from different departments came to the scene and restrained him using a tazer gun, a third cop came from yet another department, when he arrived Keith was being held down on the ground, Keith's parents heard the cop say, "we don't have time for this," and fired killing Keith. The cop a Bryon Vassey is at the time of writing this has been indicted by a grand jury on one count of voluntary manslaughter. Not enough. Writing a song is not enough either.