I have been missing in action for quite some time. Total avalanche and each day I wanted to get motivated to be here and I couldn't.
Between work (good and busy), education (taking some on-line courses), rock n rolling (though not nearly enough), and some familial med challenges; time just vanished.
Here it is, September. My crab grass is dead, I've put on about 20 lbs. Shorter of breath and one day closer to death.
But... enough about happy old me.
Life is good and imma gonna get back to making the world just a little brighter with this blog.
Ah, what could be nicer than to see bouncin' Bobby Mould- all happy, hale and hearty 31 years after I first saw him with Husker Du.
I wuz at the 2nd of the 2 nite stand at The Bowery Ballroom to see Mr. Sunshine. In the last coupl'a years, he's released a fine auto-bio, recorded his best lp since Workbook and apparently shed alot of self-hatred.
It was extremely easy to slice through the crowd in about 30 seconds and plant ourselves right by Bob, even though the guitar monitor was about 12 inches from me. Shit, I'm half deaf already, so a little more tinnitus for the cause of the rawk en rowl is a small price to pay.
So, into the fray Mr. Mouldy, Jason Narducy (bass) and Jon Wurster (drumz) stepped. Leading off with a buncha songs from Sugar (though, not the full elpee Copper Blue set from last year), Bobby-kins was shredding on his blue Strat. I gotta admit- I miss the old Flying V gee-tar, but hey, everyone's entitled to a little change I spoze.
After about 7 songs, Bob sez he's gonna play some of the new Silver Age album. I absolutely love this record and was a little sad he didn't play the title track. But toonage such as "The Descent", "Star Machine" and Steam Of Hercules" were just ducky.
One thing- In "The Descent" he sings" "I didn't want to play the song/that gave people so much hope"...
umm... what song was that Bob? Hope?????
Hey Bob Hope! I gotta million of 'em!
And then... time for the "oldies portion (aka HUSKER MOTHERFUCKING DU).
"Flip Your Wig"
"Divide & Conquer"
"Hate Paper Doll"
I believe that this is the first tour that Mould has played these songs on since Hu-Du broke up.
Fred Armison from Saturday Nite Live came out to do backing vox and rhythm guitar for the first three songs. Don't mock him... Freddy got street cred- he used to drum for alt-rawk band Trenchmouth back in the 80's. He was clearly thrilled to be playing up there- if a bit nervous looking. It's one thing to act in front of millions on TV- it's another thing to avoid fucking up on a Husker song!!!!!
Then- even more Husker Du!- "Something I Learned Today", "Chartered Trips", "In A Free Land".
I saw "Real World" and "New Day Rising" on the setlist, but I think they ran out of time and they didn't play 'em.
Well, anyway-- an ass kicking show- While I really enjoy sad mopey Bob ("Hardly Getting Over It", "Too Far Down", etc)- it's great to see him with so much energy and verve.
And here's the video of the year!~!!!!!!!
Gatorade should make a Bloody Mary flavor- I'd buy it!
Tonite: Mr. Bob Mould for free in Satan's Asshole (aka- Williamsburg, Brooklyn) for free! Though I dread being surrounded by thousands of douchebag hipster fucktwats, there's no way I'm gonna miss this. Besides, that's why they invented al-key-howl... to put up with these "types" of vermin.
Bobby-kins is slated to play all of the Copper Blue elpee from his Sugar days (not my favorite of his albums or bands- I'd prefer him to play the Beaster ep if I hadda my cherce. But... between Copper Blue and some solo stuff and some Husker muthafuckin' Du stuff I'll be a happy camper. Beeeee-sides... Bobby's new album "Silver Age" is fucking great!!!!!!!!
I first saw bouncin' Bobby with the Hu Du clan waaaaay back in the early 80's - Probably 7 or 8 times during the Metal Circus thru Warehouse era. Flying fuckin' V's, barefoot drumming and lotsa shreddin'.
Some "adventures" that will also need to be relayed on these cyber pages at some point... including showing up at a show in a dress shirt and slacks (after a student awards event) at Maxwells in Slobw-boken NJ during the Zen Arcade tour and having Grant Hart (my instant best friend from the previous nite's show at the Peppermint Lounge) burst out laughing and immediately install me as stage security- in charge of keeping the divers off the stage- needless to say, by midway thru the show I was shirtless and clad only in slacks!
Tomoro: THE DESCENDENTS (and some other bands like Gogol Bordello and Hot Water Music)- MILO GOES TO BROOKLYN. Gawd- dealing with that venue 2 days in a row is gonna be a a bear, but I have to do what I have to do to.
Man- I am really psyched to see The Descendents again- another band from my yoputh- Songs like "Bikeage" and "Hope" and "When I Get Old" and "Rotting Out" and pretty much everything they've ever done are embedded in my heart and mind.
Plus... as an added bonus... it appears I will be interviewing Milo. I'll post the innerview asap-
Davey and I will be there to represent for our fallen comrades.
Songs For Snakes
is a band from San Francisco that gets it right. This is the good stuff! Major
echoes of Husker Du, Squirrel Bait, Moving Targets and Jawbreaker emanate from
the elpeeCharcoal Heather. The trio, led by Bill Taylor is heavy
on the reverb and the songs are concise and bring me back to the mid 80’s- when
“alt rock” was defined by this ringing, anthemic sound. I dinnow if ya wanna
call it “post hardcore, I just call it Punk Rock.
I don’t know if Taylor plays a Flying V like Mould used to…
but the distortion laden guitar is a welcome sound. The bass lines are nice and
heavy, sitting on that E string is a beautiful thing. And the drumming is rock
steady and forceful … and NOT high end heavy like Grant Hart’s was with the Huskers.
Overall, the production is nice and full.
Picks to click: “St. Mary”, “Thorazine Eyes”, “Outdoor Kitty”
You can stream the album here, but support indie music
and send a few bucks to a deserving band and buy the darn thing!
Currently, I am reading and enjoying Bob Mould's auto-bio "See A Little Light". A fine book, not as heavy on the soul searching as I woulda thought, given his cathartic oeuvre of music, but some good insights nonetheless. He doesn't savage Grant Hart as much as you would expect, given their post-Husker relationship. Actually, he seems to think less of Greg Norton- basically describing him as superfluous to Hu-Du (except for his driving abilities).
Additionally, at least so far (I'm about halfway thru the book), Mould doesn't bury the book in overkill as far as his feelings about being gay. Of course he discusses it... but this is a book about Bob Mould, not a book about Bob Mould being gay (if that makes any sense- or makes no sense at all).
After finishing the whole book, I take back my initial perspective of Bob talkin about his sexuality. He lays it on pretty thick in the second half of the book and the second half of the book focus's much energy on his gay experience's (whether long term or "bumps in the night". He totally embraces gay lifestyle and is able to flourish in his adopted cities of NY, DC and Atlanta. Good for him- it certainly seems to make him a happier person. I think most people "back in the day" knew that the band was gay. It was a bigger shock finding out that Greg Norton with that handlebar mustache was straight! And despite the usual morons that were in any scene, I don't think that too many people particularly cared that Hu Du were gay.
I met Bob "back in the Hu Du days" a couple of times (and exchanged a couple of e-mails back and forth with him a few years ago) and he was always really really nice (as were Grant Hart and Greg Norton), so the "monstrous" anti-social behavior he describes in the book I never witnessed. There are some good insights into the Hu-Du songwriting and recording history, and I suspect the rest of the book will do the same for Sugar and his solo work. He talks about his drug use pretty candidly- ironically, the only time I ever saw him indulge was with a packet of powdered aspirin (we even asked him if it was coke and he showed us the envelope and it really was aspirin!)
It's also really cool to read his thoughts on some of the great shows that I saw the Huskers play- they were some amazing times for me, and it's always great to think about those old shows when both Bobby and I had alot more hair!
His stories about his subsequent efforts with Sugar and solo and with his electonica dj project "Blow-Off are interesting. After all Sugar was a bigger band than Hu Du commercially. And Mould's tales of working for WCW wrestling were great. Punk rock!
I am relieved this isn't a "grouchy" look at his past- I hate those kind of "I hated every moment of my life" books. For example, I worshipped The Ramones, but after reading the various "tell alls" that were written about the "brudders", my memories of all the great times I had at their shows and listening to their music are a bit ruined since I know what miserable people they were.
Despite some rocky self hating moments, Bob at 50 seems to be a happy, well adjusted guy. Good for him!
I am posting some covers of Bob Mould penned Husker Du songs today- some really interesting stuff that I hope you enjoy.
(according to the book, Bob smiles at Grant after the guitar solo because he was so happy he nailed it correctly!)
Hoping that the New Year brings you BETTER THINGS!
These Important Years (Husker Du)
Well, you get up every morning
And you see, it's still the same
All the floors and all the walls
And all the rest remains
Nothing changes fast enough
The hurry, worry days
It makes you want to give it up
And drift into a haze
Revelations seems to be another way
To make the days go faster anyways
We're all exchanging pleasantries
No matter how we feel
And no one knows the difference
'Cause it all seems so unreal
You'd better grab a hold of something
Simple but it's true
If you don't stop to smell the roses now
They might end up on you
Expectations only mean you really think you know
What's coming next, and you don't
Yearbooks with their autographs
From friends you might have had
These are your important years
You'd better make them last
Falling in and out of love just like...
These are your important years, your life
Once you've seen the light, you finally
Realize it might end up all right
It might end up all right now
I had to take a business trip last week, which included flying into Minnesota in sub zero weather on a small little "puddle-jumper" plane (while Otis Redding and Buddy Holly flashed through my mind) and then driving 150 miles in a snowstorm. At night. With no lights on the highway. And the snow flying right into our windshield, making the experience much like traveling into hyperspace.
The driving experience for several hours was very much like this:
as cars were crashed on the highway embankments.
The trip was up to Duluth Minnesota; original home of Bobby Dylan. I had plans to in Minneapolis and do The Replacements/Husker Du "heritage tour", but I was so freaked out by the time I got back to the Twin Cities that all I could do was sit at the bar at the hotel and down copious amounts of Leinenkugel beer. Mmmm beer.
Why anyone would choose to live in such a frigid climate is far beyond my understanding. Here in New York today, it's a balmy 20 degrees. Aaaaaahhhhhh.
With Nazz, faking a handstamp so we could sneak into a club
5 years ago today I got the call that my buddy Vin died. An aneurysm. I woulda bet on liver failure, or getting hit by a car. If you’re lucky in life, you get a friend that you can really consider your brother. Well, I got lucky.
I met Vin back in first year college, when I was tripping hard on acid and he came strolling by with an equally acid addled friend. Vin was back from college and with-in a week, we were best buddies. Over the ensuing 80 or 90 years we went to more shows, got tossed out of more clubs and bars, drank more booze, and got into more trouble than either one of us should have ever been able to survive from. We would constantly push each other to do dumber and dumber things… it wasn’t even to out-do the other, it was more of a scientific pursuit to discover how far we could take it.
Every weekend we’d be at a Circle Jerks, or Fleshtones or Slickee Boys, or Dead or Kraut or whoeverthefuck was in NYC that nite show. Often, one of us would wake up the next morning a bit banged up (more often than not it was Vin, since he couldn’t hold his liquor as well as I could and was smaller than me). Oh, the liquor thing… Vin was definitely in a lifelong battle with John Barleycorn, and more often than not, was the loser. For as much as he drank, he would get hammered pretty early on. He had 4 distinct phases: Stages 1-4. Stage 1 would be the simple slurring and stage 4 would be falling down drunk and speaking utter gibberish. And it might only be a three drink journey from 1 to 4! And God help us if he tried to pick up a girl or if we got back stage to hang with a band. I remember one time when Vin tried to tell John Doe from X the lyrics of some of John’s songs. Doe became completely unhinged as Vin tried to tell him he was singing the songs wrong! Or getting thrown out of the old Peppermint Lounge when we started square dancing during some “bull-shit downtown scenester New Wave” show. Rock n roll. I think we did 12 Super Bowl’s in a row… wherever we were, even in different cities, we would get together for the game.
Vin lived in Albany for quite a few years in the 80’s and was pretty involved with the Capital-land punk scene. I spent a lot of time in Albany, as my girlfriend was going to school there and Vin lived there. I usually spent more time with Vin actually! He had a great apartment with aluminum foil as wallpaper on all the walls… it was like living in a giant baked potato.
That’s not to say Vin was a moron. The guy graduated from a top college, worked as an assistant to two different State Assemblymen and eventually ended up in the Wall Street area, working as a systems analyst.
The missus felt equally close to Vin, he was definitely like a brother to her as well. He even lived with us for a few months right after we got married.
On September 11, 2001; Vin was coming out of the subway downtown when the first plane hit… he narrowly avoided getting killed when a piece of the plane landed feet from him. I spoke to him later in the day (I was out of town) and he described how people were jumping out of the towers. I don’t think he was ever the same after that.
I know this post is all self indulgent (as if the other’s aren’t!). I don’t care. My buddy deserves better than this blog post, but it’s the best I can do.
Here's a mixtape of some of the bands and songs that I think of when I think about Vin.
Or something.
Anyway, wherever you are, hoist up a beverage of your choice and toast someone you care about that's gone.
Business is bad. Really bad. I had to put my corporate executioners mask on yesterday and lay off a really good guy who I have worked with for fourteen years.
Feels like we're circling the drain here, so the only hope is to hold on as tight as I can for as long as I can and hope it turns around.
So, when times get tough, the Nomad's get going. Gettin' outta Dodge City for a spell. Hopefully this will keep me out of the insane asylum a while longer.
and if I don't see you, for a long while, I'll try to find you... left of the dial.
What's the old parable about footsteps in the sand and only one set showing when god is carrying you? Well, lately, there ain't even any sand, it's broken glass. Or something.
Our long awaited kitchen renovation was supposed to start yesterday. Was. Until we got a phone call from our contractor telling us the store that he was supposed to pick up our new cabinets, counters etc WENT OUT OF BUSINESS THE DAY BEFORE!
Yeah.
Out of business. With our $5000 worth of stuff. They had six stores. And all went out of fucking business and declared bankruptcy. The day before we were supposed to pick up our stuff.
I spent the day chasing our money and it appears that we are covered by our credit card company (here's a tip : NEVER PAY CASH!).
So now we get to start over.
Fun.
Less fun is the flood (thanks to a balky washing machine hose bursting)that engulfed our basement last week, and has rendered said basement into a moldy smelling slime-hole. We'll be spending next weekend ripping up all the carpeting and re-flooring.
Worst of all is that out beloved cat is dying. You can read all about our trials and tribulations with Kitty here. It's tearing our heart out, but it's time to give him some dignity. Gotta be done this week. Awful, Awful, Awful. Best fucking cat in the world. Fucking cancer.
I am not looking for a pity party. Just venting a little.
It's a good thing that my "happy pills" are working. I haven't punched a hole in a wall or even lost my temper through all of these ordeals.
The dreams are getting so real and detailed that there are often times in which I am not sure that my memories are genuine or not. Walking down the street, it's like I am invisible. No one takes notice, not even the bums. To completely disappear, who, aside from the immediate family, would be aware? How long would it take for friends to realize I was gone?
The waking hours are spent fighting sleep, and the sleeping hours are spent fighting awareness.
We busted our cherry last nite and left a musical legacy. Caterwaul Of Sound hit the recording studio. We laid down the tracks for our soon to be hit single The Love Theme to Kids Go To The Woods, Kids Get Dead.
Most of the band, being noobs to the studio scene, were fascinated with the process. Scratch tracks? Overdubs? Multiple takes???? Crazy man, crazy.
And the biggest debate took place over what the "secret backwards message" would be. One hint... we actually didn't make it (too) satanic!
My hopes of escape were dashed by logistical problems. How to displace the Nomad clan, sell the present oasis & find another one (hundreds of miles to the snowy north); swapping suburban for quasi-rural; uprooting the Princess and Jr (teen and tween respectively) and throwing them into a maelstrom of newkiditis. Plus the uncertainty that any new venture presents...though weighed against current reality, not quite the leap of faith it once was.
But things work out for a reason, as we console ourselves with that rubbish.
And I seem to be bearing the death of the dream better than the Mrs...whom I might add, was rabidly against said expansion until the bubble burst.
Nonetheless, it is with renewed vitality that I attack my current reality. Don't you know? A cornered animal is the most dangerous.
Feeling less dangerous due to a nasty virus that has kicked my ass since (not so) Good Friday. On a bitches brew of anti-biotics, pain-killers, inhalers and over the counter potions; which, when added to my usual melting pot of "steady-as-she-goes-sirs", has rendered my bloodstream as if I was the corporate asshole version of Keef Richards, though my voice has been reduced to a dull croak, most reminiscent of Bob Dylan singing through a colostomy bag.
With the escape hatch sealed, and the water rising, what can a poor boy do?
Count our farking blessings and quit the bitching, for starters!
This is the week that so many people, celebrate vindication and freedom courtesy of an angry diety and rebirth through sacrifice. Enjoy whatever rituals you prefer. Just remember, it's all in fun, until someone loses an eye (or worse).
I was really happy for a few hours yesterday. Of course, it was right after I had knocked off a six pack of this. Today, I am not so happy. Because I did not repeat yesterday's behavior.
Yet.
One of the problems with sobriety is the realization of how much happier one is when NOT sober. in fact, sober as defined: Marked by seriousness, gravity, or solemnity of conduct or character.
OK students, science test. Attempting to engage this posting under the variables of Ambien sleepy time helpers and a stomach full of Jim Beam. Twiin maladies being addressed are a nasty toothache (ring in the Bourbon) and insomnia due to work stress (ambiezzzzzzzz).
So intitial impressions are that my fungers refuse to typwe the keys that U am expecting them too. Whuch is very rude of my fungr i might mention. I treat yuo guys pretty well,,,manucure the pleasures of r flesh... help a brother out here.
Lifting weights still is effective- I guss dumbells mix well with dumbells. And the clang clang clang clangs on thru eternity.
The problem is that keys do continue to shift on the board, Lordy they are mobile. Little armies of prospective nouns, verbs and adjctivess that refuse to get to thier destiny!'
My hands are shaking alot. I feel like Katherine Hepburn on crank. I'm chewing a juicy grape into powder.
To all of my friends in the great expanse... Happy New Year and best wishes for a HEALTHY, HAPPY and PROSPEROUS New Year. <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Here's wishing you the bluest sky,
And hoping something better comes tomorrow.
Hoping all the verses rhyme,
And the very best of choruses to
Follow all the doubt and sadness.
I know that better things are on the way.
Here's hoping all the days ahead
Won't be as bitter as the ones behind you.
Be an optimist instead,
And somehow happiness will find you.
Forget what happened yesterday,
I know that better things are on the way.
Its really good to see you rocking out
And having fun,
Living like you just begun.
Accept your life and what it brings.
I hope tomorrow you'll find better things.
I know tomorrow you'll find better things.
Here's wishing you the bluest sky,
And hoping something better comes tomorrow.
Hoping all the verses rhyme,
And the very best of choruses to
Follow all the drudge and sadness.
I know that better things are on the way.
I know you've got a lot of good things happening up ahead.
This is a posting that I am terrified to write. This past weekend, I celebrated my birthday. I hate my birthday. I hate acknowledging that I am that much closer to the finish line than the starting gun. I hate thinking of mortality and celebrating myself. And I hate being the focal point of all of the above.
Years ago, I banned acknowledgment of my b-day in my office. Everyone respected my wishes. They probably all thought I was a dick (still probably do), but they still left me alone... in fact for many years, I just took the day off. This week, I actually brought doughnuts into my department... and sent out a "Happy Birthday to Me" e-mail inviting folks to partake.
Mrs. Nomad and the Nomad children are always stymied, as I tell them I want nothing. They always do OK by me... this year I got a neat Johan Santana Mets jersey, and some really cool homemade t-shirts --- mine says Hall Of Famer and the kids made ones for themselves that say "My Dad is a Hall Of Famer". And I got a really cool old school NY Giants baseball cap. And the missus made a kick ass cake (with banana pudding and vanilla frosting and NO chocolate!) mmmmmm.
Well, I also went to see these guys the other nite. Tasty show, too.
The bottom line is... I really don't need anything. I really have all the material stuff I need/want/desire.
As long as everyone is healthy and no one has any school/work/personal drama... what more could I want (aside from world peace, $30 million bucks, etc)?
These daze, I am pretty even keeled.
This is a pretty big departure in mindset for old Nazz, since before my chemical conversion of 11 weeks past, I was pretty damn miserable and on the edge for the preceding few months. In fact, the last 2 months have brought the well known horrors of the economy, bad tidings at work with regard to job cuts (I'm safe, but others will not be), and some deaths and illness's in the extended family.
I dare say, that if not for Nazz's little helper, I would have either been in the "laughing academy" by now, or thinking of jumping off a ledge everyday.
All of which is a long way of saying that maybe I've turned a corner. If so, the best birthday present I gave myself was coming to my senses and hitting old Dr. Benway back in the summer for a 'scrip. I am sure that they were holistically effective (I scared myself straight- if I have to take something for medication other than recreation, that's a powerful incentive!)
And Obama being elected was a great gift too!!!!!!!
Happy Birthday To Me indeed!
Now that I said that, I spit on the ground, knock wood and pray that the fates do not see this post as hubris and conspire to destroy me!!!!!!!!!
In fact, why is my back starting to ache big time?
I gotta go to Minnesota on business. A three hour flight and then a three hour drive up north. That oughtta be interesting... I hope I don't hit a moose. They have moose in Minnesota, right? I know they got mosquito's.
Since I'll be staying over in Minneapolis, I was gonna do a Husker Du/Replacements tour. Look up their old haunts. Or maybe hang out with Prince.
But instead, I'm gonna hit a Twins game. Always wanted to see where this guy kicked ass.
But I will stay away from this place. Jeez, what a waste of real estate. And to think, people consider it a tourist destination!
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