home is where you put your stuff
last night's show was probably a rite of passage for me in a weird way, because without any premeditation of it, i began the set with 6 new songs from the forthcoming one in a row. strange because people usually like to get a crowd rolling along a little bit with familiar material and then launch into what they are kind of dealing out as their new flaves. instead i was feeling so much momentum and joy in playing what is almost as new to me as it was to my origi-hometown crowd that it just felt right. and this i feel good about.
raucous room with people at the bar looking wide-eyed and delerious like they had been served absynthe, and my attempts at mood control with candle aromatherapy and color canvasing backgrounds were proven pretty nill. really i had set the place up for the photo-ops that were happening, but i don't think many good things will come from my blue... everything. oy i just realized i accidentally chose the 'F*&$#ng mad frenzy' candle at bed bath and beyond rathar than the 'evening sienna rose relaxer' well what can i do now..
it was also interesting to have the whole mix of 'entire administration from the conservative high school to which i went' and 'nazi-emofied-youth' and 'absinthe-bar-people' and 'redneck-gator-wrestlers who really just want a beer' combo. i can only hope the thousand-dollar word promo crap we use that fancies this stuff as music for the masses holds a little true.
afterwards we somehow ended up at the beautiful without even knowing it ever-fabled louie's cafe, long the setting for any specimen of student, derelict, or genius, and in proper playpen form my cousin and i trounced through all the characters who happen upon that place and whatever one-of-a-kind greasy concoctions that came from the furnaces therein. i miss louie's. i don't know about the new beach scene mural in tones set to ease an infant's sleeping pattens tho. we did receive a nice clinic on dreadlocking and i of course beat william in arm-wrestling for the 18th time. ok that's not true.
i have been given domain of a friend's pad while they drive to chicago and back on the chitlin circuit and so i will feel extra small if i don't accomplish something in the beautifully laid out eastern-tinged den that it is. wish me luck.
purple, green, gold, grey
anything one brags about will turn into a can of potted swine. and so as i professed assuredly up north that i would be returning to louisiana sunny warmth and blithesome carnival airs, all the mardi-gras days have translated into have been cold grey rainy wet versions of what i remember from my childhood to be incomperable fun days. which is fine enough, the undaunted rain has its own romantic pull in my soul, and i like what comes from my cat in the hat rainy home times.
anyway the trip up to nyc was exactly what i had needed, and i'm glad i kind of let myself happen there without listening to the voice of veiled stagnancy. i'll be finishing up the last little all-important bit of this new album this month or so, and all i needed was to kind of get the right space into my head before i rushed into anything, and that incredo-muse was the perfect lull to echo through my being as i set out to put the final umph into this one.
i also had the privelage of playing some cello parts on lanky's forthcoming record, and to see a bit of how he was treating his own world of recorded representation. hopefully my shabbiness on the thing will be keepable.
it's good to be back in the land from which i came. after a long time away it always seems to contain things that i didn't even realize i had missed. and more importantly people. wendy and i were talking about that two degree of separation phenom where there are people who claim to know who you are but you can't really recall who they are and vice versa, and i guess even still it happens the most here for me. which is fine because i've been put on this earth to connect with humanity. i just feel inclined to send myself to sea and make such a huger sense of that for myself.
last night i went out to the spanish moon and saw secret annexe for the first time in who knows how long, and it was really good. they looked, played differently. the gold standard rocked, and it was good to be within a crowd sixty proud not willing to punch it out, not willing to stay in the comforts of home in the rain, but be out hearing the real thing, home-grown local rock and f%&*in roll. if i ever stop doing this, someone please snipe me from a ledge somewhere or save my soul, one.