Upcoming

Oh the curds... show me the whey!!

So... FIMAV was fun as always. It's a special place where people from many nations speaking many different languages come together and try to burst your eardrums.

Not in all cases, of course, some of it was quite sublime... but two back to back nights, Saturday and Sunday featured large scale performances by some of the most infernal racketeers you'd ever want to hear. Saturday was a double bill featuring Keiji Haino and Sunn O)))... then Sunday was a supergroup of sorts featuring old school American jazz/noise merchants Borbetomagus and Japanese noise rock pioneers Hijokaidan. It looked like this on stage:

This photo is courtesy of the event's official photographer.

If you want a show by show run down you can pop over to the Surgery blog where such a thing will soon exist.

Slept on and off much of Tuesday (which I pre-booked as a day of rest...) caught up on e-mails, not much else. Then back to work. One thing about taking any amount of time off is that the first day back is usually a painful thing. I was quickly reminded of my place in life when someone called with 78 rpm records and "regular" records to sell. I gave my usual pitch, they named a few albums... some of them promising, some of them Supertramp. I had poo pooed the 78s early on, given that we don't have the space for something so slow to turn over. He assured me the music on them was older... "even older than Supertramp," was how he described it. Is that even possible?

Here are a few more sights and sounds... well sights anyway... of the weekend, including the legendary Poutine Galvaude of the wonderous MAX POUTINE!!! (all caps for effect and for J.Mac's benefit.)

In the details

It's a couple of days (less than 48 hours) before I take of for the FIMAV in Victoriaville. Taking care of last minute details gives me a rash... what am I forgetting this time... census, curling iron, cats on fire (got to put 'em out). Do people stay on top of the little things like getting haircuts and putting out the recycling on time? I feel like I used to. But now... well it's more conscious, that's for sure.

Marc B., James and I are taking a route through Maine, Vermont and New Hampshire to get to our respective destinations... I've never done this drive before. Scenery is one of my favourite things to look at.

Things have been pretty laid back whilst house-sitting. My only bit of heart acceleration came mid-late last week, walking to work. My route is down Reid to Albert and across the top of the Middle School sports field over to York and down again. I was cutting the corner onto York, which has a fairly steep 5-6 foot dip down to the sidewalk. A black dog three or four houses down the street across York was barking frantically at me even before I got to the corner. Stupid dog, I grumbled, especially after seeing he was safely tied up. When I got to the very top of the decline I saw that not me, but a full-on bushy tailed skunk was what had the dog so excited. I sucked in air and backed up slowly but deliberately, crossed over Albert to the opposite corner and crossed there. I gave the, now obviously, smart dog a big thumbs up on the way by.

At work, other than the usual springtime cavalcade of phone calls by people who've discovered records in their basement and think they've solved their money woes for 2006... only slight irritations, annoyances, and opportunities to be amused have occured. To whit:

Two young men (15-17... who can tell?) browsing the store. The blonde one is a "regular," but the type of regular who comes in twice a month, never buys anything but always asks for "rare" Nirvana stuff (vinyl, singles, imports) or K. Cobain endorsed things like Vaselines, Daniel Johnston, Teenage Fanclub, etc. When confronted with any of the things he so desperately desires he either "has it" or will "pick it up later." Later of course means never, though a great show of disappointment is made when he comes in three weeks later to find the Nirvana single sold. But I digress.

His friend, a first time customer, I think, has a Slayer CD and a copy of Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon on a Japanese label. Here's how this goes:

He: This says it's Japanese.

Me: Yes.

He: Does that mean it's translated in Japanese?

Me: No... it's on a Japanese label.

He: So they put it out in Japan?

Me: Yes. The Japanese love to rock.

He: [furrowed brow] But it's not in Japanese?

Me: No.

He: [putting CDs on the counter] Are you looking for any work here?

Me: [piecing it together] Ahhh... I don't have to look, I have work here.

He: You Do have work here?

Me: I have work here. Were YOU looking for work here?

He: Yeah... yeah.

Me: Sorry, we're not hiring.

He: Oh well, thought it would be better than working at Ponderosa.

and SCENE.

I fed the kitties some Limp Bizkits...

...and they started to mutate:



I'm giving them some Korn for dinner. Maybe that will make it better?

I did it for the Kittie, the Kittie...

I hope everyone's forgotten Limp Bizkit sufficiently to not get the title of this entry? Good.

I've begun a stint house sitting for my friends Dana and Chris...

It works out well just now as they have an office with a view of the back deck, Hi Speed internet and a nice Mac to work on... and I have reviews to write for an Exclaim! deadline. Noon tomorrow.

They also have three things which might (pre)occupy my attention:


Simon


Phoebe

...and my old nemesis... SATELLITE TELEVISION!!!!

I'll let you know how the battle goes later.

So why are we here?

The wonders of weeknights off!!!

After a pleasant ramble through points Maine-ish and Quebecois with Mandy over the weekend (see pictures below) I've been revelling in the new-found ability to go where I want when I want after 5 pm. Of course 3 of the last 6 nights that's been up here to the lab to get caught up on work, but still... it's only 'cause I could choose to do so.

On Wednesday the routine was broken up by wine bottling with Howard and Linda. Two new batches to add to the wine cellar/gymnasium/sewing room/darts emporium. Some of those things probably aren't meant to co-habit, no problem for the Renaissance couple, though. H & L take quality control quite seriously so much scrubbing, filtering, sterilization was involved. The process post-pre-clean is dynamically perfect for three people: 1) Howard on racking (or bottling) 2) Me on corking and 3) Linda on labelling. The final step is the application of the plastic seal... the shrink-wrappy thing that goes over the cork... I did that with a super-heating paint stripping gun... worked a treat.

Each momentary pause between steps of course calls for a sip of the wine from a newly decanted bottle. Only when the process is over (we did 2 batches of 28-30 bottles each) do you realize how wrecked you've gotten.

I capped the evening off with a walk home... which is about an hour from their place to mine... across the river... but it was a nice night and I had my CD player (you may remember portable CD players... they were early prototypes for mp3 players). The only little bit of unexpected fun came as I got to the South side of Westmorland Bridge. There was no traffic so I crossed over the road to the City Hall side of the bridge and walked down the on ramp to the riverside. I crossed the Westbound lanes to the central median when I noticed a set of headlights approach under the bridge... so I stopped to wait for the car to pass. However when I stopped the car stopped. So I thought a thought halfway between Hmmmm and Oh Fuck. As soon as I started walking again the car sped forward... propelling me further in the Oh Fuck direction. Soon enough I could see that it was a police car and they pulled across from me blocking my path.

Cop: How are we tonight?

Me: Doing OK, thanks.

Cop: Where are you off to?

Me: Just headed home.

Cop: We saw you just standing by the road... what were you doing?

Me: I was waiting for you to pass so you wouldn't run over me.

Cop: Oh. Alright then.

[speeds off]


The other little bits of synchronus silliness at the store this week consisted of not one or two but three different organizations calling or dropping in looking for junk vinyl to decorate for parties/functions they were planning. All of them essentially hoped we'd just hand over something no questions asked. My favourite of the three was the Marriott call centre chick. Now the Marriott is, I believe, a fortune 500 company... million/billion dollar revenue jokers, y'know? The lady's pitch was that they were having "Associate Appreciation Hootenanny..." or something to that effect... with a retro rock theme. She wondered if they could "borrow" some of our records with the promised they'd return them in the same shape at a later time. My response was propelled from the Oh Fuck (off) direction.

Not pictured here...

Clicking makes 'em bigger...

If you say so.

I've not been ignoring you, friends... my energy's been directed elsewhere, briefly.

Fr'instance... I completed two new hour long mixes for both the Backstreet and Surgery blogs.

The Backstreet mix is here.
The Surgery mix is here.

I also finished up work at the lab last Thursday... so I'm not automatically in front of a computer every night for five hours. A blessing for some, a curse for others... for me... a blurse, I guess.

My first weekend off was also blursed with a borrowed copy of the first season of the new Battlestar Galatica TV series. Proof you can be serious in Sci Fi without having to be pretentious too.

Right now I'm struggling through store stuff... Getting little orders/special orders out there... doing it for the kids, y'know.

By the way... the store'd been bereft of quotable exchanges until last week when a customer showed up to pick up a specially ordered CD. He'd not been in the store before and had been directed to us for special order purposes by one of the chain stores. After paying for his disc and poking around a bit he headed for the door, but just before leaving:

He: Oh, I know another disc you can get for me.

Me: Sure.

He: Dylan's Street Legal.

Me: Yeah, that doesn't show up second hand very much... no problem.

He: It's a good one. I was in a Mexican prison for two years a while back and it was one of two tapes I had.

Me: I would think you'd never want to hear it again!

He: No, it was one of my crowning moments.

and he was off.

Gotta split, too.

Now it can be told...

All this week I've either had my camera or my camera cable... but never both... at the lab so I couldn't put these up for consideration:

Thursday April 6th:
Blood Meridian, Meligrove Band, The Constantines at The Cellar:

Matt Camirand aka Blood Meridian (also member of Black Mountain).
Proved that the last day of classes is not the best time for an acoustic set.

Favourite between song patter:

• This next one is for these two drunk girls. Enjoy now, you'll be puking later


• Thanks for sort've listening

The Constantines standing on the newly erected stage barrier... how long has this been around??

Friday April 7:
Lost Boys BBQ:

It was nice when the idea occurred... of course it was raining while we charred... but we had the power of Daedelus and Deadbeat to see us through:

Saturday April 8th
Texas Hold 'Em @ Howard's

not pictured.
mentioned briefly in Sunday's post.

Why so quiet?

I lost $15 at poker... but I skipped breakfast

I took a bus yesterday from King's Place to campus. Someone sitting behind me was listening to the song Toxic by Britney Spears loudly in headphones. I never thought it could happen in Canada.

I also picked up breakfast at McDonald's yesterday. I am not above reproach... but while the counter person an I were both waiting for our hashbrowns to finish deep frying he tried to strike up a conversation. This is how it went:

He: It's supposed to be this nice all weekend

Me: Yeah?

He: 8 to 13.

Me: Mmm.

He: Yeah.

[long silence]

He: My birthday's in August, though.

Me: ?

He: I take my week off then.

[hash brown beep, thankfully]

Here are ten blog sites with only one post. Most started (and ended) in 2004... bad year for blogging apparently:

1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10

should I stay or should I go?

The Constantines are at the Cellar tonight.

Tonight is also last class at UNB.

People much younger than me will be more excited than me about things that don't concern me...

Hmmmm.

I'll let you know.

Cuts Like a Knife

The power of the simile in poetry (a descriptive word preceded by the word "like" or "as") is usually generated by an unexpected disjunction between the action and/or the word used to describe it... though not too disjunctive so as to enter into the world of non-sequitur or verging upon the opposite, thereby involving irony.

For example:

Cuts like a smile... fairly good simile... a smile is usually a beneficial gesture, but when it is insincere or mocking... then it can "cut"... plus bonus points for the possibility of teeth being involved in cutting.

Whereas:

Cuts like a platypus

or

Cuts like a cricket bat

not so effective.

Had a weekend (well, Sunday-Tuesday) visiting parents which went by fairly easily. Overdosed on white trash court TV yesterday. What I've learned is that you should never provide anyone you love/like/trust with a cell phone/rental car/apartment room. Also the only people who commit senseless acts upon each other are either black, white and fat, or black/white with neck tattoos, teased hair, smoky glasses. I don't really have a favourite amongst them. Judge Judy is the most straightforward, aimed least obviously at the lowest common denominator (LCD) plus she has the best bailiff. Judge Marilyn Milian on the People's Court is a younger, sassier version of Judy... with added ethnic heat (she can cuss the plaintiffs out in their native tongues). Then you have Judge Joe Brown and Judge Mathis... more or less the same shtick... but of the two I'd have to give JB the edge for looking irretrievably worn out, pissed off, etc... and for letting the two sides yell at each other like two year olds before he booms out to them his assessment of their place in the food chain... plus bonus points for the court reporter with the best hair... Jacque Kessler.

One of the newer shows (and most bizarre) in the genre is Moral Court (I've just discovered that it isn't new... just ran for 2000-2001 before being cancelled... thank goodness for daytime reruns). Essentially the way this one works is you rat out friends and family for being complete bastards (i.e. one of the litigants squealed on his brothers' scam of smuggling in dead bugs to restaurants and sprinkling them in entrées of restaurants with bad service). The judge (Judge Elder) then assesses whether the defendants are immoral for their shenanigans... or perhaps the litigant is immoral for being such a tattling ninny... then the winner gets $500. Easy! but Weird! We should have that here in Fredericton. I'll be a bastard to you if you split the cash with me later. Promise?

All the commercials during the 4+ hour block of human misery are for other "real" lawyers who want to sue anyone you say is responsible for your own stupidity... for prescription drugs that could (in rare occasions) kill you while they fix your sleeplessness or itchy scalp... for services to reconnect your telephone after the phone company has cut you off for non-payment... and for various academies of learning that teach skills like TECHNOLOGY... (ie computers, y'know computers, why you so stupeed, stupeed?)... or my favourite the one for cosmetology where the "success story" graduates liken their hair dressing to poetry, sculpture and the mood altering power of prescription drugs.

Ah well.

You may have noticed that certain links and pictures on this blog (and the others) are either changed or inoperative. It's a slight case of server re-routing I'm trying to get solved... pray for me... It's a UNB issue.

But for now here are a few photos of the triumphant return of Marc Bragdon!!!

Akron/Family photos

one hundred photos

"Crowd" One Hundred




Chris One Hundred




John One Hundred

Turn off the porchlights

Back at work after what seems like a whirlwind tour of the maritimes, but really wasn't. Saturday did menial tasks (laundry, groceries, sweeping the mines out of the bathtub) in between bouts with the soundfiles for the One One Hundred show that evening. Things there went fairly well... not a big crowd, but we didn't do big buzz on it (at least I don't think we did). James videotaped it and will be featuring clips on the Lost Boys site. Chris made a minidisc recording that turned out very very nicely so there may be soundfiles and/or actual CDs floating around in a while.

Sunday was breakfast at the Blue Canoe with Mandy, John and Margaret... where in a semi-daze (brought on by a cholesterol surge, no doubt) I managed to forget my camera on the table, so we had to drive all the way back out to Lincoln. Scenic, frustrating, embarrassing... but successful in retrieval.

Sunday night was a birthday pisser for the H-man, Howard Biggar, whose birthday, it turns out, wasn't until Tuesday in reality. Luckily we got started early with pizza and cake alongside the beer & rum. The early start meant we got wrecked early enough to be in bed at a reasonable hour. Though as per usual I stayed up an extra couple of hours at home listening to Damien Jurado and watching Waking Life.

Monday was a medium-well-done hangover/work day. I had booked the night off from the lab and was fully prepared to not go to Saint John that night... then James called with that puppy dog phone voice of his, and his cynical enthusiasm warmed my heart. Ergo, shortly after the end of the working day we found ourselves on the bus to SJ, and eventually parked on stools at Elwoods waiting for things to get underway with the Akron/Family show.

The show was all laidback intensity... I have a few pictures to post of it (and the other show once I get my camera cable up here) so you'll be able to see for yourselves. Elwoods itself is pretty cool and renovated. The menu is funky pub... I had some yummy vegetarian potstickers, deep fried with hot chili dipping sauce... only $5 for a dozen. Good good.

Spent the night at Gordie's in the Narrows. The family was down a vehicle so we had to get an early start to make sure everyone reached their destination in a timely fashion. It's the first time in a long... ever... that I've found myself in a mini-van with three other adults and five kids (all before 9 a.m.) That and a bowl of porridge made for an odd start to the day. Though it was early to rise we still only made it into Fredericton for 11:30 am... late to open the store. No one was there to complain, though.

Now I'm here without having been home yet.

I'm looking forward to bed, yes.

Pictures tomorrow.

I am Jack's tylenol and antacid

I am less ironically serene.

My day included comfort in a couple of primitive forms:



The working part of the day was blessedly free from abstruse interactions...

Oh, I neglected to relate my "Question of the Week." This week features a double-header from a single individual. Said individual was mainly after Dutch Mason (he's the one sitting down) vinyl... I was listening to the new release by Final, one of many projects by Justin Broadrick (Napalm Death, Godflesh, Techno Animal, Ice, Jesu, etc.). The record is a series of quasi-ambient, though fairly feedback enhanced, guitar noise loops. The question:

"Is this music legitimate?"

And secondly, looking at a poster for the Garrett Mason show taking place at the École Ste. Anne the following night... the question:

"On this Garrett Mason poster, is that a picture of Garrett Mason?"

Abstruse.

But anyway, after work I stopped in at the Underground Café and looked around. Their PA will probably do the trick... it's go multiple inputs, which was my main concern. I really like the room, too. So there. Serenity abounds.

Just have to have a show to put in there now, right? Here we go.

This is a link to Little Pictures... a track from Final3, just out on Neurot Records.

I am Jack's ennervated stomach acid

I am serene.

Though in the last two weeks my part-time guy started a new full-time job and so could only work part-part-time, leaving me to pick up the slack...

I am serene.

Though having to work one of the last four days I've had off at the lab on Sunday...

I am serene.

Though I've been trying to plan when to see my folks for the last three weeks (and they keep asking when, when, when in creaky, old folks' voices) but things keep popping up to force rescheduling (hey, call your mom, right now)...

I am serene.

Though Exclaim! sprang a last minute interview assignment on me last week where I had to write a review, track down the artist, request the interview, come up with questions and hound him for answers... all between Monday and Thursday...

I am serene.

Though I'm supposed to be playing a show on Saturday where my main contribution is the manipulation of sounds... but because the lab's been busy and the store's been busy and there really aren't anymore hours in the day and I'm too tired to stay long afterhours (though not tired enough to get to sleep before 3 or 4 am each night) therefore I have maybe a tenth of the material I'd hoped to have prepared...

I am serene.

Though James and I don't have a way to Saint John to see Akron/Family on Monday yet...

I am... serene.


This is the sound I am hearing in my head: AaaaOOOOUUuuuummmm.

Not all sandwiches...

I had a bunch of really deep thoughts today... but the one that nagged at me all afternoon was this (and I'm sure you've all pondered this too): If I were going to tattoo my knuckles what words would I use?

Classicists would likely either go with OZZY, or if they're Robert Mitchum fans, LOVE/HATE:


The guy in the store today had "MOM/DAD" (and he smelled like feet that had been tucked in someone's armpits for three days), but that seems unfinished; what about those two extra knuckles?

So how's about it? What would it be? By the regular rules of the game the two words would have to be four letters long and probably opposite in meaning... but don't stick to that, unless you want to see how many you can come up with:



So lets see them folks. Make your knuckles sing and post links to the results in the comments section. Best submission gets to punch the "MOM/DAD" guy full on in the face... then run for their lives (though the smell would forever alert you if he was near).

Til' then: