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honeyjars-sims · 3 months

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3.6 Hurting from the Heat

The morning light was shining through the window. Johnny hesitantly opened his eyes, not yet willing to greet the day. The previous night of partying left him with a pounding headache. Next to him Carina was also beginning to stir awake.

Johnny knew how this would go: She would start getting dressed and he would try to tempt her back in bed with him. She'd decline in her dismissive way that always left him feeling like a hungry dog begging for scraps at the table. She’d offer him something from the bootleg pharmacy in her purse as some sort of consolation prize and she’d be on her way.

He could avoid the whole song and dance if he’d just keep his mouth shut and let her go, but he kept trying on the off chance that his pleas would actually move her this time. Next to him Carina was already making her way off the bed. “Are you leaving?” He asked, as if the answer wasn’t obvious.

“Yeah, I have my class, remember?” She stood up and started gathering her clothes that had been thrown haphazardly on the floor the night before.

“Oh yeah. That’s not for another hour, though. Can’t you stay a little longer?” Johnny patted the now empty spot where she’d been lying, still warm from the heat of her body. Before long it would be cold once again.

“Johnny, you know what this is.” Carina sighed as she pulled her shirt over her head. “I told you from the jump I’m not into relationships.”

Johnny rolled his eyes. “When did I ask you for one? I just want to cuddle for a bit.”

“You say that, but I know your type. First it will be cuddling, then spending weekends together and before I know it, you'll be introducing me as your girlfriend and talking about our future. No fucking thanks.”

Carina must have realized how harsh she sounded because she sat herself on the edge of the bed and laid her hand on top of Johnny’s. “Look, you’re a nice guy and I’m having fun with you, but I can’t give you more than this."

“I know that.” Johnny replied quietly. He didn't want anything more, at least not with her. Truth be told, he wasn't even sure if he liked her. He was just tired of being alone.

"You should get up and go do something. Y'know, seize the fucking day or whatever." Carina rummaged through her tote bag and pulled out a small baggie of white powder which she held towards him. “Here, this'll wake you up.”

He knew he should decline but the sadness was creeping in and he figured he could use a distraction. “Okay, but just a little. I have an appointment later.” Getting high before therapy probably wasn't his smartest move, but that would have to be a problem for future Johnny.

Carina began gathering her things. "Well, I'll see you around. Oh and Johnny? You should really think about getting a girlfriend." Johnny sighed and began getting ready for his appointment.

By the time he was ready to leave, he was pretty amped up. He tried to leave the house without catching the attention of his parents and almost made it to the front door when he heard David call his name.

“Hey Johnny, please remind your girlfriend that we don’t smoke in the house.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Johnny replied. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and reminded himself to relax before David caught wind of what he’d been up to.

“Well, whoever she is, she needs to stop smoking indoors if she wants to come back.”

“Okay, I’ll tell her. But I did tell her already. Really! I didn’t know she was still doing it or I would’ve said something to her.” Johnny was talking too much and too fast. He could tell by the way David's eyes narrowed that his dad was on to him. “She doesn’t really listen to me, though, and I don’t think she really wants to come back anyway, but if she does I’ll let her know.”

“You’re on something.”

“No, I just had too much coffee.” He knew his lie wasn’t convincing but he had to say something.

“You’re sweating and you look like you’re about to jump out of your skin. I’m not stupid, Johnny.”

“Fine, think what you want. I’m going to be late.” Johnny began heading to the door, reaching for his keys on the entry table on the way. David grabbed them first.

“Are you out of your mind? You’re not driving high. I’ll take you.” Johnny didn't protest.

“This ends today,” David continued, and Johnny knew he meant it. “Your little friend can’t come over anymore. If I see her in my house again, you’re out. If you bring drugs into the house again, you’re out. If you don’t get a job by the end of the month, you’re out.”

“Okay, I get it.” He agreed to the terms as though he had a choice and started to walk to the door.

“Johnny, wait.”

Johnny didn’t hide his agitation. “What now?” He threw his hands up in the air, preparing for another tirade about what a selfish and irresponsible son he was. Instead David’s face softened as he placed a hand on Johnny’s shoulder.

“I was just going to say that I love you, no matter what. And I’m going to do everything I can to help you, even if it makes you hate me for a little while.”

His dad's eyes, filled with anger a few moments ago were now brimming with tears. Johnny was ashamed that things had come to this. He hated that he was hurting his dads after everything they’d done for him. “I don’t hate you, Dad,” he said softly. “I love you, and I’m sorry."

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theunderestimator-2 · 1 year

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Lou Reed performing at Copenhagen in September 1973, as captured by Jan Persson.

"For that 1973 world tour, Reed had put together a fantastic and very energic band they were all from Detroit and they all knew their business. The concept of the tour was to deliver «Berlin» to an eager public. As Reed had been musically brought up in the Warhol’s factory, he had become a master of manipulation and he knew how to bring the hysteria element within his crew. Very high on diverse drugs, Reed silently enjoyed it when all his staff, manager, musicians, roadies and friends, fussed around his person. Andy Warhol had found out the lights concept by himself: «What is needed» suggested the Pope of Pop» is to borrow the light effect conceived by Albert Speer» for what will later be known as the «Hitlerian ceremonies»: White light spots, (whiter than white) and with a tremendous intensity all focussed on Lou Reed on an immense black background. And that’s what they did. The Tour started on September 17 at the Paris Olympia, with eleven European dates to follow. On stage, Lou Reed was wearing black leather. His face was a livid mask and he had an Afro. In Amsterdam, the bootlegers stroke, and realeased a Pirate album called «RocknRoll Animal» That made him laugh and «now here is a title for me» will he declare. Every nights, his big black Mercedes will take him to different venues, and every nights, he’ll arrive at the last moment. And his Roadies had to practically carry him up on stage where he had to stagger to reach the mike. The tour was a colossal success thanks particularly to his guitarists who had found a way to «metallize» his repertoire. His band was driven by an tremendous rhythm section: the drummer Pentti Gian played ocasionally with Steppenwolf, and the bassist Prakash John, had just resigned from Funkadelic to be replaced by Bootsy Collins. The lead guitarist Dick Wagner, had debuted with Frost, a band used to the Grande Ballroom. And so that’s why Steve Hunter was the perfect counterpart: a veritable virtuose who loved to put danger in his technique. Hunter, had once belonged to Detroit (behind Mitch Ryder) and already in the old days he used to cover the Velvet Underground «RocknRoll» on a rather hard mode, and that’s been the option adopted from the beginning to the end of that mythic tour. Every night the two guitarists will have guitar duels in front of eager crowds. Lou Reed was taking all kind of drugs, and his roadies will confess: he took everything coming his way: coke, speed, weed, valium and Johnny Walker Black Label and the roadies had to hide bottles for him into the amps. Rock critics will put it that way: «It’s been like a black mass into a Gothic Cathedral with Heroin as a God». jltambo.wordpress.com

(via)

#lou reed #1973 #rock n roll #rock n roll animal #glam rock #live gig #people

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meadow-dusk · 1 year

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Albums I Loved in 2023

May: High Flyin' (2023)

I remember seeing this photo a long time ago: Neil Young playing in front of an amp labeled with a big sticker that read "DUCKS RULE." I thought it was some joke at the time, but I looked into it and learned about them, and it added to the great mercurial mystery that Neil was becoming. After a year of being a fan, I conceded I still had so much to learn about him. So, along with thousands of others, I waited to have a chance to hear anything more than a snippet of the mythic Ducks. There wasn't much circulating: their seven-week tenure in the 1977 Santa Cruz bar scene fizzled out as quickly as it started.

But oh…how blessed we were to get High Flyin': a triple disc bootleg that puts you right there in the middle of the action. In ways, it was everything I expected and in others, everything I didn't expect: country harmonies, folk melodies, loving odes to cars and sea shanties set to rock’n’roll. The ridiculously fun surf rock instrumental “Hey Now” (clearly a Neil Young brainchild) is equally entertaining and adorable. More than anything, it's a good time and good music. There’s no better indication of everyone enjoying themselves than the audience quacking sometimes in lieu of applause (and the band occasionally returning the gesture).

It should surprise no one that I'm coming at this from my usual angle: yes, there are other musicians in this group, and they’re very good (Jeff Blackburn, Johnny Craviotto, and Bob Mosley), but I'm really not here for them, no matter how much they're featured. I was so excited for this release that I placed myself into the detailed fantasy where I could be a witness to their performance, even knowing Neil had more of a backseat role, and loving his versatility to be able to slot into secondary instead of taking the spotlight. But his presence is palpable anyway, the tone of his guitar a deliciously continuous flow through the right side channel (his driving direction perhaps clearest on the slick, heavy “Windward Passage”). Another fan described The Ducks as what Buffalo Springfield would sound like as a 70's bar band, and their rendition of "Mr. Soul" (possibly my favorite ever now!!!) supports that. But they do so much more. They sound like summer. They feel like a welcome sign of parting clouds.

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Neil, as usual, brings a rough edge that makes the music feel complete in a way that I’ve come to expect. The same way that, when I was a child, I needed to have the color green in any landscape (or anything really) to be satisfied. It wasn’t a want, or a preference, but a need. One that, in the situation at hand, goes beyond a musical expectation. I recognize that this is likely not a permanent state of being, because nothing ever is. But I have kindled the lights of love, appreciation, and gratitude for Neil for nearly three years now, and this record adds weight to the ever-growing list of reasons why those flames still burn hot. I feel immensely grateful to have insight into this dimension of his artistry and continue to understand him as someone that can be a team player as well as a leader. The inspiration extends beyond technical to a personal realm I’ve never felt with any artist before, and sometimes I forget how truly special that is. It’s good to have reminders like this. Leave it to me to spin this Ducks album reaction into yet another declaration of my love for Neil 😂 but I hear the crowds on this bootleg that light up as soon as he sings…and I know I’m not the only one.

#Albums I Loved in 2023 #Neil Young #The Ducks #High Flyin'

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thelowdownunder · 6 years

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Listen: 'NYC Rags' E.P. by Johnny & The Bootlegs

Listen: ‘NYC Rags’ E.P. by Johnny & The Bootlegs

https://soundcloud.com/user-559395418/sets/nyc-rags-unreleased-ep-1

Blues-punk-rock outfit Johnny & the Bootlegs released their EP NYC Rags today, for a delicious taste of NYC nightlife to devour whole. Blending a perfect mix of gritty rock n’ roll, heartfelt-blues, and a dash of punk to taste, the band barrels their way through the urban jungle of NYC, with equal parts of debauchery and genuine…

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rgr-pop · 5 years

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I need an ENTIRE afternoon wall of noise. 4/3 music library on shuffle until I hit a killdozer song.

the thermals - “god and country” reset - "double cross" nirvana - "polly" (1986-88 home recording) nirvana - "radio friendly unit shifter" (2013 mix) peterbuilt - "sateliteyes" the dickies - "got it at the store" apocalypse hoboken - "box of pills" fiona apple - "slow like honey" tex & the horseheads - "big boss man" everclear - "the drama king" anti-flag - "america got it right" neil young - "tonight's the night, pt. ii" everclear - "brown-eyed girl" noooooooooo oh my god no please millencolin - “israelites" listen you know that i'm p tolerant when it comes to this subject but why specifically did you boys do this. specifically you useless id - "note" never accuse me of pop punk nationalism again! that's three of global pop punk the selecter - "selling out your future" built to spill - "some things last a long time" holidays - "proof" let's wrestle - "bad mammaries" radhos - "one breath" ween - "boing" bracket - "g-vibe" local h - "'cha!' said the kitty" sublime - "40oz to freedom" failure - "saturday saviour" blink-182 - "don't leave me" (tmtts live take) why did they make this live album, they were so bad live shrimp boat - "melon song" interpol - "not even jail" the ataris - "angry nerd rock" 50 million - "superhero" skankin pickle - "violent love" the breeders - "put on a side" all - "honey peeps" the commandos (suicide commandos) - "weekend warrior" suicide machines - "friends are hard to find" the eclectics - "laura" good ska block! love this band pansy division - "jack u off" rocket from the tombs - "ain't it fun" dynamite boy - "devoted" young pioneers - "downtown tragedy" the breeders - "so sad about us" fenix tx - "jean claude trans am" fuck i love this song nofx - "bob" hickey - "happily ever after" bob dylan - "tangled up in blue" (bootlegs vol. 2) gas huffer - "king of hubcaps" tullycraft - "crush this town" atom and his package - "goalie" faith no more - "the real thing" carly rae jepsen - "tell me" bis - "listen up" one direction - "still the one" mtx - "she's no rocket scientist" eugene chadbourne - "roger miller medley" grouvie ghoulies - "carly simon" white town - "thursday at the blue note" gas huffer - "moon mission" rx bandits - "sleepy tyme" everclear - "rocket for the girl" failure - "kindred" blood on the saddle - "johnny's at the fair" the distillers - "red carpet and rebellion" cruiserweight - "dearest drew" stp - "plush" everclear - "wonderful" (live, from the closure ep) (don't hate it) new found glory - "sonny" everclear - "otis redding" (impure white evil demo) (BEST song) stp - "adhesive" incubus - "have you ever" cub - "tell me now" everclear - "short blonde hair" i simply do not hate it letters to cleo - "happy ever after" amazing transparent man - “the ocean is a fuck of a long way to swim” nerf herder - “(stand by your) manatee” kitty kitty - “ab tokeless” osker - “the mistakes you made” perfume genius - “hood” radhos - “shut up & deal” (welcome to the jungle take) osker - “the body” gas huffer - “the sin of sloth” the fall - “bombast” excuse 17 - “code red” mad season - “lifeless dead” unwritten law - “differences” hanson - “two tears” the eyeliners - “anywhere but here” moby grape - “lazy me” brian wilson - “wonderful” 88 fingers louie - “something i don’t know” sicko - “wisdom tooth weekend” the replacements - “love you till friday” suicide machines - “green world” midtown - “another boy” hickey - “cool kids attacked by flying monkeys” the roman invasion suite - “carnations” the beat - “tears of a clown” local h - “24 hour break up session” okay i’m awake i want to end this now toots & the maytals - “funky kingston” local h - “strict-9″ his name is alive - “her eyes were huge things” nirvana - “frances farmer will have her revenge on seattle” slapstick - “almost punk enough” urge overkill - “bionic revolution” janet jackson - “you want this” piebald - “long nights” small brown bike - “now i’m a shadow” the story so far - “left unsaid” crj - “more than a memory” tracy + the plastics - “my friends end parties” liz phair - “6′1″“ fastbacks - “555, pt. 1″ this mix is feminist now swindle - “one track” shockabilly - “burma shave” temple of the dog - “say hello to heaven” amazing transparent man - “shove” cool soul asylum cover from dekalb illinois :)) the vindictives “eating me alive” midwests only!! the judys - “radiation squirm” gulfs only!! frogpond - “sleep” flipp - “rock-n-roll star” throwing muses - “red shoes” everclear - “santa monica” throwing muses on summerland??? mekons - “atone & forsaken” holidays - “take me home country roads” this is a good tone to lead up to killdozer... true believers - “all mixed up again” prince - “adore” beulah - “queen of the populists” eveclear - “rocky mountain high” (99x live acoustic--I don’t have a date for this actually) of montreal - “dustin hoffman thinks about eating the soap” heatmiser - “stray” rickie lee jones - “woody and dutch on the slow train to peking” tar - “viaduct removal” common rider - “carry on” the frogs - “u bastards” mudhoney - “this gift” hammerbox - “outside” fuck my mom would have loved this song if it had gotten the airplay it deserved in 1993... hammerbox on summerland!!!! letters to cleo - “little rosa” kay hanley on summerland!! nine pound hammer “wrongside of the road” hanson - “with you in your dreams” (3cg demo) hamson on summerland!!! fastbacks - “555, pt. 1″ again... fastbacks on summerland!!! face to face - “sensible” soul asylum - “happy” soul asylum on summerland!!!! television - “see no evil” pinq - “careful not to mention the obvious” the dickies - “nights in white satin” tar - “mel’s” truly - “chlorine” babes in toyland - “deep song” hole - “berry” hellbender - “half driven” hammerhead - “new york? ...alone?” everclear - “malevolent” guzzard - “last” archers of loaf - “tatyana” hum - “stars” hum on summerland die kreuzen - “don’t say please” this is not fair joanna newsom - “sadie” down by law - “peace, love and understanding” nirvana - “aneurysm” (1990 demo) hovercraft - “endoradiosonde” modest mouse - “cowboy dan” rage against the machine - “born of a broken man” skatalites - “scandal ska” pylon - “driving school” the vindictives - “babysitter” jimmy eat world - “ten” the get up kids - “lowercase west thomas” oh we’re doing this now? hot rod circuit - “knees” fine triple fast action - “the rescue” FINE full disclosure i do skip emo diaries tracks at my discretion the amps - “bragging party” everclear - “am radio” this is not fair mxpx - “middlename” MXPX ON SUMMERLAND chokebore - “your let down” bob dylan - “you’re a big girl now” helmet - “primitive” pond - “filterless” blink-182 - “all the small things” local h - “ralph” tar - “over and out” pearl jam - “black” the gits - “sniveling little rat faced git” local h - “eddie vedder” >:) tar - “flow plow” i always misremember this as a subpop single so i’m like “i’m not amphetamine reptile biased?” but it was an a/r release, lol. brad wood produced it. lake michigan as hell unicorns - “jellybones” this song makes me sad ever since i didn’t get to adopt the jellybones cat oblivion - “clark” desmond dekker - “jeserene” veruca salt - “one last time” veruca salt on summerland!!!! dead moon - “dead moon night” extremely dead moon on summerland fishbone - “i like to hide behind my glasses” dead moon - “on my own” paw - “sleeping bag” tar - “goethe” doc dart - “casket with flowers” smashing pumpkins - “zero” i don’t want billy corgan on summerland and i am sorry for that kicking giant - “&” kicking giant on summerland lmao shockabilly - “pile up all architecture” ween - “sorry charlie” sublime - “april 29, 1992 (miami)” heatmiser - “blackout” the clash - “pressure drop” hellbender - “pissant’s retrospective” the queers - “i won’t be” the vindictives - “circles” the beat farmers - “selfish heart” screaming trees - “end of the universe” 7 year bitch - “second hand” bourgeois filth - “above” nirvana - “scoff” the breeders - “cannonball” saturday looks good to me - “save my life” cara beth satalino - “good ones” communique - “dagger version” soul asylum - “sometime to return” sublime - “jailhouse” tullycraft - “twee” nuns - “wild” beyonce - “countdown” the replacements - “sixteen blue” living colour - “what’s your favorite color” britney - “why should i be sad” mdc - “church and state” alice in chains - “junkhead” rage against the machine - “mic check” everclear - “nervous and weird” soundgarden - “fresh tendrils” helmet - “army of me” the gits - “it all dies anyway” pansy division - “smells like queer spirit” mtx - “i’d do anything for you” 5 year sentence - “just a punk” pennywise - “nothing” mudhoney - “thirteenth floor opening” yesterday’s kids - “eighteen” mxpx - “punk rawk show” small brown bike - “zerosum” incubus - “trouble in 421″ hanson - “speechless” incubus - “circles” dead moon - “my time has come” (!!!!) first of all is this killdozer blink-182 - “here’s your letter” everclear - “electra made me blind” (nervous & weird take) saves the day - “through being cool” groovie ghoulies - “don’t go out into the rain (you’re gonna melt)” babes in toyland - “never” husker du - “target” guzzard - “biro” fairweather - “next day flight” mcr - “house of wolves” broadcast - “until then” liz phair - “never said” the dicks - “rich daddy” quasi - “the iron worm” mustard plug - “not again” janitor joe - “boyfriend” snapcase - “new academy” neil young - “someday” blindsided - “spaceman” placebo - “without you i’m nothing” the creeps - “lakeside cabin” solomon grundy - “time is not your own” the clash - “the card cheat” silversun pickups - “common reactor” lagwagon - “leave the light on” denali - “where i landed” system of a down - “highway song” sprinkler - “personality doll” the vindictives - “structure and function” unplugged” the queers - “ursula finally has tits” we’re entering no repeats territory buffalo springfield - “expecting to fly” hit squad - “pictures of matchstick men” cows - “almost a god” hop along - “young and happy” pixies - “i’ve been tired” the fall - “spoilt victorian child” camper van chadbourne - “knock on the door” queens of the stone age - “tension head” choking victim - “war story” cool that we have gotten to drop by the greatest song ever recorded :) guttermount - “happy loving couples” audio karate - “nintendo 89″ tad - “pork chop” the kelley deal 6000 - “where did the home team go” colorfinger - “hateful” :} man or astroman - “evil plans of planet spectra” pere ubu - “arabian nights” accepting repeats for new found glory - “my friends over you” cool moving on american steel - “optimist” tom petty & the heartbreakers - “even the losers” meat puppets - “another moon” black cat music - “wine in a box” wallside - “ready” crucifucks - “pig in a blanket” the bananas - “my charmed life”

KILLDOZER - “EARL SCHEIB,” UNCOMPROMISING WAR ON ART UNDER THE DICTATORSHIP OF THE PROLETARIAT, 1994. KILLDOZER ON SUMMERLAND

#music

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mikenips · 4 years

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Together Now

Fuck. People better start showin’ up soon. Ate the tab too early. Already did my Johnny Thunders makeup. Shirt with a missing sleeve Dylan tore off. And the classic shredded denims around my waist. Even wore a dog collar this time. Jake better have been serious about gettin’ people to dress up. Hope he was able to find one of those oversized greeting cards. Went to three places and couldn’t find one for Brendan. Even rearended someone in the process. Some Vietnam vet that didn’t even bother to take the cig outta his mouth while gettin’ my info. That’s what I need to calm these nerves. A cig. Bought a second pouch in case I start chiefin’ ‘em. That’s how the acid goes.

Take a shot of etizolam. Half dose. Don’t wanna kill the trip. But definitely need to slow it down. Would’ve been fine if I had waited another hour. But wanted to peak during Brendan’s last Toeheads set before dippin’ for the Navy in Rhode Island.

Blink and the living room is startin’ to fill with bodies. Jake’s orange wool hat clashin’ with his costume. “Brendan isn’t here yet is he?”

“Nah.”

“Cool. Pass around this poster board. Have everyone sign a goodbye card for him. Couldn’t find a real card. So we’ll fold it in half. You got any good photos of him?”

Tear the one off the wall. Stimmed out in the cig room at the end of Summerfest. Tape it to the center. Not a bad turn out so far. For a show thrown together in a couple days. Luckily Wednesday is my off day at work. Devil’s Night. Fifteen minutes after start time. Hour after load in was supposed to be. Jake never did clarify what time music was gonna start. Just asked to use Belmont for the occasion.

“We’re on first right?” Chuck says from the front door behind me.

“Yeah. Go ahead up and you can start settin’ up.”

Jake hides the card in the coves upstairs where 208’s gear is already tucked away. KQ adjusts Jordan’s kit. While Owen and Ben plug in amps. Chuck sets a pumpkin on the ground. “PHARMA” scrawled over the front in Sharpie. A large pill bottle with the label torn off next to it. They dip for the front porch for a preshow cig. Cig room already hotboxed by Dee and everyone at Ham House. They do this shit everytime. Just need to step in for a minute. And the second hand smoke smothers the urge for the cig you just rolled up.

Dylan is on the front porch with a sheet over his head. Makin’ everyone guess who the ghost is. Drew and Tina drinkin’ Buzzballs in the kitchen. X’s on their foreheads. “They taste like a flat Four Loko. Not good. But named appropriately.” Pop the empties on the shelf in the kitchen with the memorabilia from after parties and other sets here. Glad people actually wore their costumes.

Everybody’s here and the benzos are makin’ the night extra surreal. Like this night is somethin’ from a dream we all avoided sleepin’ through. The King of the Scene arrives. Different pair than his normal octagon sunglasses over his eyes. Stroh’s already cracked as he walks in. Peter’s upstairs testin’ the projector setup. His hazy visuals on the ceiling and the Peanuts sheets on my mattress propped against the wall. Time to uncork the liter and a half wine bottle.

The feedback whistles from Owen’s cranked amp upstairs. Whistlin’ everyone into the dark bedroom. The neighbors only complain about the noise when the hardcore bands play. So tonight might not be their favorite show. But after this Belmont is closin’ for the season. Gotta clean the bathtub for my landlord’s property inspection next month. Can’t believe I’ve been here for two years now. And averaged a show a month this past year. Couldn’t pick a better closin’ ceremony the King’s departure.

The crowd stands anxiously against the wall as Pharma plows through their first song. Chuck pacin’ around the room with mic in hand. Scoops the pumpkin from the ground as KQ beats the sticks together. One two three. And on the fourth the orange splinters on the blue carpet. Tyriq shoves Joey mid kick as Chuck’s screams clip the speaker. Everyone’s flesh collides. Oozes against each other before slidin’ off the sweat. No amount of AC or open windows able to stop the humidity of body friction. Bones crack and disintegrate to the marrow of our lives. Rail the line and jump in. Bottle in hand. Joey’s skull makin’ contact with the base. Spewin’ a geyser onto the wall from the palm of my hand.

The red wine paints streaks on the white drywall that still stands defiantly against our chaos. Drops run down at a fraction the speed of Owen’s blurred hand makin’ the strings wail. And in ten minutes, the masochistic treatment of our eardrums unfortunately ends. Light flicks on. Showin’ a mess of pumpkin guts. Seeds. And capsules of an unknown drug woven into the carpet by our feet. When did that shit burst? “Nips, you want me to clean this up at the end of the night?” Chuck pants. Red in the face.

“Nah man. It really ties the bedroom together.”

He smiles as Kyle drags his amp from the cove for their set. Shelby adjusting the kit. Walks away as Jake towers into the room. Emptyin’ a Stroh’s into himself. “Thanks for askin’ us to play Jake. Super stoked to get to play a show with Toeheads.”

“Man. Thanks for comin’ here from Florida.”

“Well thanks for acceptin’ us into this. We didn’t know anybody here when we moved out here. But you all made us feel so welcomed into this family.”

Gotta get a cig in before this set. Once 208 starts you’re gribbed in. As tight as the stranglehold Kyle has on the neck of his guitar. The reverb slaps back with the thud of Shelby’s drums. Bouncin’ you from wall to wall. Body to body. Drowns out the thoughts reverberatin’ off the walls of your skull.

He’s gotta have the shoes off every show. Release the hounds! Let the brutalization of instruments begin. The things we do for tone. He mumbles almost incoherently into the mic behind shags of hair. “This next one’s ‘Hotel California.’” Shelby’s tom thumps in the background as Peter’s lights pulse on the walls. Kyle droppin’ to the floor. Body twitchin’ with each crunch of distortion he bends outta the amp. Until it gives out. Forcing a finale from the duo.

“I forgot the tambourine!” Drew yells to Joey.

“Fuck. Should we run down the street to grab it.”

“I got bongos.” Pass ‘em to Drew while the three Toeheads debate their setlist. Gonna play the full EP that drops at midnight. Cassettes from Remove Records comin’ soon.

Grab a beer from the fridge. Drew standin’ in the kitchen. Joint tucked between lips. Greasy hair falls on the shoulders of his bright shirt. Tappin’ the bongos surrounded by women with X’s on their foreheads. “That’s gotta be the most cult leader lookin’ thing I’ve seen in my life.” Joey passes by. Tosses a beer can in the sink. And grabs a plate to set upstairs.

The ceiling and wall covered in shots of the trio performing on the front porch. The same front porch I first spotted Brendan and Jake from at the first show I threw a year ago. Just two goons sittin’ in a red Dodge. Drinkin’ Labatt. Heavy. And the one hidin’ behind octagon shades tells me about this tape label he started. Remove Records. “King of the Scene!” Drew yells perched on the head on top of Joey’s 8x10. Jake cuts his goodbye speech off early. Don’t wanna get too heavy before the heavy music.

The chords crunch under his fingertips. The brass crashes under Brendan’s sticks. Joey gettin’ some futuristic fuzz from the bass. This is the future of garage. Happenin’ right before my dilated pupils. The noise ceases as Jake’s mumbled first line grows into a scream. Then pounds faster. Harder. Sloppier. How can Peter’s camera even handle this noise? “With a knife!”

Standin’ by the stairs the group begins a cover of “Anna (Go to Him.)” The crowd dances with each other. Belts the chorus in unison as the peak takes my brain into this dream. Everybody gathered in this sweaty bedroom. Vibin’ together. What more could you dream of? One last night for all of us to be together. Together right here. Right now. Hidin’ the makeup streakin’ under my eyes in the cig room from Rae and Kyle from the Waterheads.

The group ends the onslaught of feedback. Screeches. Of both instruments and vocal cords. Reverb. Thuds and crashes. Hi-hats through the wall. And every jarring sound your ears dream of bein’ berated by. Joey trades the bass for a second guitar. Yells for a pick. While Jake begs for some noise to stop him from continuin’ a corny speech. It is Devil’s Night after all. Brendan trades his sunglasses for the pair of octagons in his leather jacket while takin’ a bow.

“Burn down Midtown!” From Drew.

“Has anyone seen my wallet?!” From Dee.

“It’s not fuckin’ workin’!” From Joey who can’t rail a line through the humidity. Gives it up before his ode to DMT and a rambunctious cover of “Blew My Mind” to close the set.

“Don’t we have a bunch more?” Joey yells across the room.

“Well some of us working class folk have a job to go to in the morning.” Evan jokes.

“Alright. We’ll do an encore for Brendan’s last ride.” Jake plugs back in. Drew stands in the center of the room. Pulls back up the bongos in sweaty, red hands. “This one’s called ‘Demon House.’

“I’ve been livin’ in a demon house!” None of the notes are distinguishable in the final barrage of sound. But the bodies crash into each other. For one last connection to the King that gave everybody somethin’ to show their parents. I can still hear him behind the bottle of Stroh’s at Painted Lady before we bootlegged the Milk Bath gig at Outer Limits. “Just somethin’ to say ‘you guys might not be into this. But somebody out there thinks it means somethin’.’”

As the party filters out, Jordan video calls me on Snapchat to say goodbye to Brendan before he sets sail. Says the broken hi-hat stand was the least he could offer in return to the King of the Scene. Joey spills the bottle of wine next to me. Looks up from rollin’ around on the floor. “That’s the difference between me and Jay Retard. I know when not to break shit.” The words fill the holes the acid burns into my brain as he dips to prep Ham House for the after party. Leavin’ his shoes behind. The picture of me and him in his underwear will surface in a few days but doesn’t help fill the gaps in the night.

Sittin’ next to me, Brendan dents a Stroh’s can in his hand. Hood over his head. But no octagons to hide the tears in his eyes. “It’s just… For the first time… I feel like I finally got a family. And now that I have that feeling. I gotta leave my home behind. Over a mistake I enlisted in months ago.” He sniffles and kills the can. Somethin’ about the way that last drop of beer hits makes you puke it all up. “And I don’t know how long until I’ll be able to get back to that feeling.”

“But that’s the beauty of it.” Take a swig from the remains of the wine bottle. “No matter what happens now. You got the security of family. We’re all still gonna be here. And whenever you get back, the empty space you left will still be here for you. Ya know now no matter what you always got a family somewhere. Forever. Maybe the scene ends. Maybe Joey moves somewhere like New Mexico or some shit. Maybe I finally clean the bathtub like my landlord and Jake keep askin’. But no matter where any of us are or what’s different. You’ll always be able to show up and have people and a place where you belong. No matter where we are we’re all together now.”

One by one people nod to sleep at Ham House. People find their way back to their beds. And don’t have to dream about a home. Cause they got a place to be free. Like Manson sang about. Brendan hugs me goodbye. And I find my way to the after hours where my friend Josh asks sincerely if I’m doin’ alright tonight. Cause he knows it’s not just the acid and benzos makin’ everything feel surreal. But at least when I get home. There’s a pair of octagon glasses in the explosion of pumpkin seeds and prescription strength anti-inflammatories. I’ll end up losing ‘em in a few months. Life’s cruel that way. Even all the shit that means somethin’ to us will pass. But at least we got it together now.

#hail the riff #grown up fucked up #toeheads #belmont house #pharma #208 #vague glimpses of beauty #remove records #detroit garage rock #detroit diy #a vibe

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watusichris · 8 years

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Becoming the Band: A Primer

Even today, nearly half a century later, one marvels at the mystery of the Band’s arrival on the music scene. They presented themselves as ciphers; though they seemed to have stepped right out of the past, they didn’t appear to have a past themselves. Oh, we received information about their history, but it seemed to conceal as much as it revealed. It was no surprise that the first major story about them, an Al Aronowitz piece in the Aug. 24, 1968, issue of Rolling Stone, swathed them in shadow. In the Elliott Landy photo that graced the magazine’s cover, the five members are squeezed together on a bench, facing a river or small lake, their backs to the lens.

When it materialized out of the ether in 1968, Music From Big Pink was hard to figure out on a first listen, or even on a tenth or twentieth. Who was playing what? Who was singing? How many singers were there? Where did those horns come from? Were all those weird sounds coming out a keyboard, or were they transmitted from Mars? And what the hell were those strange, cryptic songs about? Who were those curious characters that inhabited them: Crazy Chester, Miss Moses, Lonesome Suzie? What’s that Bob Dylan painting supposed to mean? Who are these guys?

The record conjured a powerful mystique, and its sound rippled through hippiedom like a musical smoke signal. Its sequel The Band, released 14 months later, was earthier, more straightforward; if Big Pink resembled some magical text translated from a hitherto unknown language, the sophomore album played like a raunchy history book. And yet, by the time it landed, we still knew very little about the Band. The vast majority of their fans, and they had rolled up a few by then, hadn’t even had a chance to hear them perform live – they had played just two concerts by the time the second LP reached stores in September 1969.

They had a secret history, it seems, a long one, one that predated their justly acclaimed debut, which could hardly be considered a real debut at all. Finally based in America after a long apprenticeship on both sides of the U.S.-Canada border, with side trips to Europe and the Antipodes, and a fateful siege of woodshedding in West Saugerties, New York, they weaved everything they had learned into their music. And they had learned much, for most of them were whey-faced teens, almost absolute beginners, when they began. It’s a rich tale, best heard in the music they scattered in the early days of their career.

Most now know that they had their genesis as members of the Hawks, the backup band for Ronnie Hawkins, an Arkansas native who discovered he could make more money playing rockabilly, blues, and R&B covers in the clubs on Toronto’s Yonge Street than in the buckets-of-blood back home. So he settled in up north, with fellow razorback Levon Helm serving as his drummer and musical director, reeling in young, feisty Canuck players to fill out his outfit.

They came aboard one by one, like the Magnificent Seven: Robbie Robertson, Rick Danko, and Richard Manuel, all in their teens and spoiling for adventure, were recruited by Hawkins and Helm. Keyboardist Garth Hudson, the senior member of the band, by then in his late 20s, completed the crew when he signed on in 1964.

Hawkins and his band, christened the Hawks, made music for clubs where chicken wire was strung in front of the stage to deflect flying beer bottles; in time, they would encounter the one-armed stripper who worked in Jack Ruby’s bombed-out Dallas joint.

The task of making music that would entertain some of the most drunken and pugnacious clientele in the Northern Hemisphere resulted in recordings, made for Roulette Records, the province of magnate/mobster Morris Levy, which displayed an intense ferocity and an authentic bluesiness. You can hear “Who Do You Love,” “Further On Up the Road,” and “She’s Nineteen Years Old” – covers of Bo Diddley, Bobby Blue Bland, and Muddy Waters numbers, respectively – on the superlative retrospective The Band: A Musical History. It was tough stuff, played with no frills.

Hawkins took the Hawks to finishing school, but the boss proved too parsimonious and dictatorial for their tastes, so they dropped out and went along on their own, cutting singles for Roman, Ware, and Atco Records under the names Levon & the Hawks and (ugh) the Canadian Squires. Their 1964-65 45s – “Leave Me Alone,” “The Stones I Throw (Will Free All Men),” “Go Go Liza Jane” – were written by Robertson, and display a folksiness as generic as their titles. They were more at home slugging it out in support of John Paul Hammond, the mush-mouthed, blues-singing son of Columbia A&R man John Hammond, who had signed Bob Dylan a few years earlier.

It may have been fated that the Hawks would end up playing with Dylan. A Canadian connection apparently brought them together. If working with Hawkins had been the musicians’ secondary education, they received their post-graduate degrees, master’s and Ph.D, behind Dylan, then entering his acid dandy period and looking for a band that could put electric flesh on the poetic bone of his careening new songs.

In the immediate wake of his uproarious debut with an electric band (mostly Paul Butterfield’s) at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival, Dylan enlisted the Hawks to back him on his first rock ‘n’ roll tour. Their initial American dates with him – which coincided with some ill-fated recording sessions for his next album – are poorly documented on recordings, but the limited evidence – most notably a date in Berkeley, California -- show the group groping toward a grander ensemble conception.

They tried their best in the studio, but they did not really succeed. They cut a venomous remake of Dylan’s “Can You Please Crawl Out Your Window,” but the single was a resounding flop. Worse, attempts to cut more sprawling, vaporous tunes like ��Visions of Johanna” and “She’s Your Lover Now” came to naught; on the huge, comprehensive set of Dylan’s 1965-66 studio recordings, The Cutting Edge, you can hear him vibrating with frustration over his musicians’ incomprehension. He soon decamped to Nashville, bringing only Robertson with him, and employed Al Kooper and some top session men to bring Blonde On Blonde to fruition.

By the time more live dates began in February of 1966, Levon Helm – who had been hip-checked to the side by Dylan in the New York studio – had wearied of being booed and exited for a job on an oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico. First with studio man Sandy Konikoff and ultimately with Mickey Jones of the Trini Lopez and Johnny Rivers bands on drums, the rest of the Hawks played on in the U.S., Australia, and Europe.

Many of the outraged crowds spat fire and brimstone at Dylan and his over-amped punks, and they spat back. The often frenzied performances of ’66 were comprehensively compiled on a recent Columbia box, Bob Dylan: The 1966 Live Recordings; the best electric sets – Manchester, Paris, London – play with a silken grandeur, and sometimes with bristling animosity. (“Play fucking loud!”) In that day, hearing these high-volume shows must have been like sticking your head into a jet engine.

By late May, when the tour concluded in London, Dylan was hurtling toward a wall at light speed; you listen with horror to his incoherent stage rants during the final gig at the Royal Albert Hall. Two months later, he broke some bones in his neck in a bad motorcycle accident near his secluded home in Woodstock, New York. He burrowed into hiding to recuperate, but he soon would have the company of his backup band again.

They trickled into town. Robertson, who had grown close to Dylan on the European dates, showed up first, late in the year, ostensibly to help with the editing of an impressionistic film drawn from footage of the ’66 European concerts. In the early spring of 1967, Manuel, Danko, and Hudson reached Woodstock; they set up shop in a garish pink ranch house in West Saugerties. (Robertson was already ensconced with his fiancée in a house of his own, not far from the manse of Dylan’s manager Albert Grossman.)

Thus bunkered, far from the day-to-day tumult of the record biz, the Hawks began their doctoral work, sometimes in Dylan’s living room, more frequently in the basement of the communal Big Pink house.

What became known as the Basement Tapes (after a fraction of them were first bootlegged for the first time in 1969 on The Great White Wonder) can today be heard as a sort of private musical symposium. At first, Dylan and his group ranged through nearly every imaginable style of American music – blues, R&B, folk, country – and ran down some English and Celtic antecedents as well. (On their own, the group, who knew their way around horns, would bring jazz to the table as well.)

First came covers, but then new original songs followed: mostly by Dylan, but some of them penned with Manuel and Danko as well. Inspired now, with a world of music flowing easily through them, they began to write songs of their own – allusive, funky songs that veered afield from their earlier work on their own. You can hear them on A Musical History; a few are included in doctored form on the 1975 Columbia set The Basement Tapes. Some of these songs – “Word and Numbers,” “You Don’t Come Through,” “Ferdinand the Imposter,” “Ruben Remus” – would be demoed, only to disappear. Others – the ripping “Yazoo Street Scandal,” “Katie’s Been Gone,” “Orange Juice Blues” – would be professionally recorded but remain unreleased. Others still would form the basis of a debut album.

After the group was put on the market by Albert Grossman and signed to Capitol Records, the promise of that album finally lured Levon Helm back into the fold, and he settled in with the rest of them at Big Pink. The die was now cast: They were a new act now, and their old handle would not do. What to call something so rich and strange? Some jokes were proposed: the Crackers, the Honkies. In the end, the moniker they chose for themselves settled comfortably on their shoulders, at once generic yet encompassing everything that flowed into their music: The Band. And thus the mystery began.

(For more about the Basement Tapes: http://watusichris.tumblr.com/post/105449885597/a-dylan-a-day-annex-i-the-basement-tapes)

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theonion · 8 years

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Biden Making Plans To Go Completely Legit After Vice Presidency

WASHINGTON—Saying he needed to turn his life around before “ending up in deep shit,” outgoing Vice President Joe Biden was reportedly hatching plans Friday to go completely legit now that his term in office has concluded.

Biden, who longtime aides confirmed had made numerous phone calls inquiring about good, honest minimum-wage jobs, vowed to cease taking part in a variety of scams and petty crimes and move far away from the nation’s capital, where he believed he could finally make something of himself and become a productive member of society.

“I’ve lived like there’s no tomorrow for fuck knows how many years now, but mark my words, sooner or later, if I don’t straighten out, some hardass will be throwing Uncle Joe in the joint or a pine overcoat,” said the vice president, who expressed a deep sense of regret that his back-alley street dice game, his “plum” fencing racket, and his bootleg merchandise operation had caused so much pain for loved ones. “Everybody knows trouble fits me like a pair of tight cutoffs that only cover half your ass cheeks. I’ve done plenty of things I’m not proud of, and a whole lot more that I sure as hell can’t remember. Got nothing to show for it except a few scars, a bitchin’ spoiler on the Zam, and a rap sheet longer than my dong.”

“From now on, I gotta keep a low profile and steer clear of Johnny Law,” continued Biden. “It’s time for Ol’ Joe to play it straight.”

The vice president reportedly took a long drag from a cigarette and slowly exhaled through his nostrils while describing the shady deals and criminal offenses that ultimately led to his sudden desire to “get [his] ass in gear” and “ditch this dump of a city once and for all.” Biden told reporters he had grown sick of the all-night parties, sleeping in past noon every day, and keeping his head on a swivel for rival “bud peddlers,” hired guns, and any number of “batshit crazy” members of Congress he had “gotten into dustups with” during his six terms in the Senate.

In addition, White House officials confirmed that Biden had repeatedly asked outgoing President Obama in recent weeks to pull a few strings to enroll the 74-year-old in the Federal Witness Protection Program.

“I’ve been on the horn hitting up Barry to do me a real solid and help old Joey Scranton out of this jam,” said Biden, adding that a fresh start in a faraway place with a new identity would be the easiest way for him to leave “the game” and keep him out of county lockup. “Lately, all my ‘sure things’ have been pretty iffy, so I don’t give a rip where I set up shop. I just need to cut out and stop rubbing elbows with a bunch of good-for-nothing dirtbags like the Gooch, T-Bone, and Pelosi, who will sell you out in zero seconds flat as soon as the fuzz start sniffing around.”

“I can hang my hat anywhere and keep myself squeaky clean as long as I’ve got some green coming in and Blaze at my side,” the vice president added. “I also asked Barry to do right by Jill and hawk a pound of the dank yerba I stashed up in the fireplace in the Oval Office so she has a sweet nest egg. Might not make it back to these parts, so I told him to say so long to Jilly for me, since I’m not into big send-offs.”

The vice president informed reporters he was ready to settle down and find a profession that was on the level, noting that he would be “sitting pretty” as long as he landed a job that brought in $12,000 a year, and mentioning he would gladly accept a “real cushy” position washing dishes at a restaurant, fetching shopping carts at a supermarket, or selling car parts at a reputable chop shop.

Biden added he was also “keeping an ear to the ground” for any roadie gigs “hauling amps” for Foghat.

“I’m too damn old to be living outside the law anymore—you can’t keep pissing into the wind forever,” Biden said. “I just want to be a totally upright citizen who busts his hump for the man all day, punches the clock, and then heads home to pull bongs until dawn. Just like everybody else.”

At press time, sources confirmed Biden heard the sound of distant sirens, stated “I gotta tear ass out of this rathole town,” and scrambled out a second-story window.

#The Onion

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seanholloway31096wjl · 6 years

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