entertainment addiction => requires no intervention
September 21, 2008
i’m headed to austin city limits this weekend, where i’ll see not one but seventeen bands whose sounds make me melt. among them are what made milwaukee famous, the freddy jones band, iron & wine, MGMT, css, beck, NERD, erykah badu … lordy the list goes on. i’ll get back into town just in time to head to rusted root and then stereolab, the later this month to thao nguyen, the french kicks, exit clov and m83.
plus i’m going to see murray (rhys darby) from flight of the conchords. i should probably wear depends to that.
good thing i do freelance to pay for (and sustain) my addiction to entertainment…
rodrigo y gabriela - mind-melting music mayhem
August 15, 2008
i’ve been avoiding my computer since it’s been part of my life 10+ hours a day for the past few weeks. i love being busy though, so i’m not complaining … just explaining my lack of updates for those of you who follow me and have either (a) asked me where i’ve been or (b) sent death threats to my house*. a thousand apologies.
when i wasn’t working, i was hitting up virgin music festival in baltimore and herbie hancock at wolf trap. more details on these later.
but first, let me just touch on one absolutely astounding duo i fell in love with last saturday. they only had a handful of people on the lawn before their stage when they started. by the end of their 40-minute set, we’d all crowded the stage and slammed thousands onto the lawn. two acoustics, two incredible musicians, one gorgeous saturday afternoon under the sun — i was feeling ultra enlightened.
love it.
*never happened.
well, do ya, punk?
July 19, 2008
i had a conversation with juji in response to my last blog post. it went something like this:
ar: dude, the concerts this weekend were just what i needed.
jj: i wouldn’t pay to see two days of dave.
ar: what?! you’re not a dave matthews fan?
jj: yes, i am.
ar: but you don’t want to see him in concert?
jj: i’ve already seen him several times. i know what to expect.
ar: (silently intrigued).
and here’s why:
i never thought before that people might not go to a concert they know is good. that just doesn’t make sense to me: i know this band rocks in concert, so i’ll NOT go. ????? i mean, once i find a band i think is great in concert, then anytime i have the chance to experience that music again, i’ll go. BUT it’s the same band. that’s the tradeoff, i guess, and one i don’t really consider substantially problematic.
to me, the winning is knowing i’m experiencing music with other people who *get it* with me and the creative minds themselves. incredible live music extends far beyond an mp3 in a way that can’t compete — in a way that sucks the emotion from my toes.
however, juji’s approach isn’t 50/50. it’s all-or-nothin. it’s a conscious investment in another band that (a) is either good, or (b) is awful. to him, the consequence of having to see the SAME band that he likes outweighs the risk of seeing a new band, which could be terrible.
the chance of it being simply amazing, however, is the winning, knowing he’s getting a great NEW experience rather than a familiar one.
this may seem like such a simple discussion, like “what’s the big deal.” but, for some reason, i find it fascinating.
achieving radassness = yes
July 14, 2008
this weekend was totally rad. on friday night i was definitely a radass surrounded by three other radasses, and here’s the story of why.
i flew from washington to tampa on thursday night after a seriously busy week — among only a handful like it this year, and thankfully so. i was ready for a long weekend in florida with gabs and keith (henceforth referred to instead as cheech because it’s funnier) and, almost equally so, a little run-in with a one dave matthews.
and by run-in, i mean observe.
see, dave matthews plays shows two nights in a row in west palm beach each year. i’ve been invited but hadn’t come before. maybe it’s better; my first night after a four-hour car-ride was well worth the wait.
and here’s the story of why
(is there an echo in here?)
cheech only had two tickets for the friday night show, but four (the number in our group) for saturday. so, he decided to sell the mere two tickets on friday night and we’d just go all together saturday. the problem was, cheech instantly experienced the pangs of seller’s remorse and suggested we all head to the concerts in hopes of nabbing some last-minute deals from the scalpers outside. it was a great idea, except we were rolling out of the hotel 30 minutes before the show was pegged to start, so we had to haul radass.
we arrived at the most precise moment on earth, because we got funneled into the back parking lot and then … wait for it … about 30 yards from the FRONT DOOR of the ampitheatre. as we rolled up, a man approached us and offered tickets $5 below our own internal limit we’d set on the way over. to make it just slightly better, there was no line at the beer and soft pretzel hut (awwhwhhcghh), and we walked right up into the lawn where we promptly sat next to some kind elderlyish stoners *just* in time for dave to walk out onstage.
he was beautiful. like a beacon of smart music wonderousness shining in a land of plastic boobs and ugly dudes driving hot cars.
actually, his bass player is more beatiful.
but, the point is, the next two hours included a perfectly warm summer night near the ocean with an old friend and his vanilla sugar magic band, playing for me as i transitioned from dancing to laying on my back looking at the stars to laughing at the memories flooding my brain as a particular chord is brought to life again right before me, only to be followed by another, and then another…
the set was my ideal. when i heard ants marching, i was transported somewhere that i wanted to slide on over my brain like a sock of familiar comfort that smells of your childhood home during thanksgiving. yes, that’s what i wanted to do. with one pregnant song after another, particularly #41, i felt so serene and satisfied; like i was being fed the food my soul needed that night — an evening populated with only the sweetest memories seemingly all scored by dave matthews.
i’m not even sorry. he’s brilliant.
to top off our radasses and our kickass night, we walked out and hopped into our car faster than anyone, thereby securing our easy, no breaks needed whatsoever exit from a venue slammed with tens of thousands of cars.
so rad. so, so very rad.
