Two Thousand Jive Wrap Up

Well, I know that the year isn't quite yet over, and I'm about to embark on a last quickie journey of the year to my former home, my home away from home, Berkeley. I'll be there for about a week, and I know it'll be a blast.

However, I'm wrapping things up now. Memory wise. The good stuff from this year. My top ten, as it were... Top Ten Moments of 2005.

10. DJing at Radio in Oakland back in June. I was getting over a cold (which later developed into something else because I wouldn't give myself time to breathe) but I flew up to Oakland anyway, put on the knee high black leather boots, and DJed the night away with Mr. Joe Quixx. Friends came, people danced, the bar rocked and rolled. A good time was had by all, especially me!

9. The VIP Lounge at 8MM, Berlin. I was drunk. Like really drunk. My friend took me back to 8MM, where we had been the night before. This is the bar where the hip band kids DJ after they play Berlin (the only guy I can remember is Carlos D of Interpol). We were drinking with a couple of Australians and I got up to use the bathroom. On my way out, I was grabbed by a guy named Constantine. He took me into the back room, and swore me to secrecy about going back there. Turns out a couple people were playing pool on the secret pool table. I met the folks back there, pretended like I could play pool for a minute, and then went back to the bar because I felt bad for abandoning my friends. I immediately told them about the secret room, and later saw one of my billiard buddies, who also happened to be a hip young German film star. But I don't remember her name.

8. The last 10 minutes of the series finale of Six Feet Under. One of the best television shows EVER. Gorgeous piece; I can't hear that Sia song without crying. After I watched it, I wanted to call the guy I was dating and say, "Let's just run off and LIVE! LIVE LIFE!" I didn't.

7. Sharon Jones live at Sunset Junction with my friend Iiad. We had margaritas at my house, walked down to the street and danced our skinny white asses off to the hardest working woman in show business, Miss Sharon Jones. She royally shook our groove thangs.

6. The first DJ gig at the Short Stop. It reminded me of what I love about DJing for people: having fun, dancing to just about anything and being happy and excited about it, and good vibes. Oh yea, and lots of free drinks and cute boys. For me to play with.

5. RIP RFTC. The final Rocket from the Crypt show ever, on Halloween night, in San Diego.One of the best shows I've ever seen in my life, hands down. I still haven't written about it, because it was too awesome for words. It was sweaty, loud, crazy, sweaty, rockin', out of control, tight, and sweaty. I think I lost 5 pounds in 2 hours. And boy, was my hair frizzy.



4. Dating an awesome guy. For the first time in a gazillion years, I let myself date someone who was quality. Really wonderful, sweet, and goofy. An all around good person and human being.

3. Dumping the awesome guy. Why? Because I recognized that he didn't have the time for me that I needed, so rather than settle for what I could get, I said, "Let's just be friends." And it was the right thing to do, and has worked out swell.

2. Accidentally meeting an old friend on a random flight home. When I flew back from Berlin this fall, I had to connect to my LA flight in New Jersey. As I stood staring at the display screen showing me my flight information, a man walked beside me to check out the same screen. It was someone I'd known for a few years, who had been in and out of my life for various reasons. He was flying back from Italy where he had been touring. He saw me, I saw him, we laughed and reconnected (literally - on the same plane). We both realized that life kept throwing us in the same place, so we'd better just kiss & make up and stay friends. And it's been golden ever since.

1. Buzzily riding bikes around a couple of lakes in Berlin, at night, with one of my closest friends in the whole world. It was kinda scary and pretty neat, and certainly not something I'm ever going to get to do in LA.



Goodbye, Two Thousand Jive. Welcome, Two Thousand Sexy!

X Marks the Spot

Musical alphabet. We're at X. So, uh...

X.
Someone explain to me how Exene Cervenka was able to marry both John Doe AND Viggo Mortenson? Cuz she's a kooky little woman, and they are insanely hunky sensitve men. Must be that "sensitive" part.

X rules. They even ruled during he first round of their reunion period when Billy Zoom re-joined the band. In fact, I saw the two years ago at our local street fair, and they were still ruling. I'm just jaded.

Nobody has sounded like them. Nobody harmonized like Exene and John Doe because she didn't know what the fuck she was doing. They were one of those early "punk" bands that was actually filled with melody, and you could tell they had a country thing goin' on too... before it was cool for punk bands to go outlaw country and shit. They were political and caring and in your face and friendly and rowdy and great.

Besides, the song "Nausea" rhymes with my real name. My friends used to sing it to me all the time. Those were the days.

Happy Whatever

May The Holidays Be With You.

Whoa There!

In my musical alphabet recounting, I've reached W.

And I want to remind you all that this is just what pops out of my brain at the moment someone says, "What musical act or thing or whatever do you think of when I say W?"

And today, that would be Waylon & Willie. (Uh, Jennings and Nelson.)

They recorded a classic album back in 1978 (called Waylon & Willie), which included that one song "Mama Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys." Thing is, when these guys did this record, they'd been pals for a while and were leaders of the outlaw country movement for their hard drinkin' and smokin' and fightin' and livin' and lovin' and drinkin' and stuff. But that movement was already on the wane, and this record, classic as it is, was not really their best stuff. There were a couple solo Willie tracks, and a couple solo Waylon tracks, as well as the duets, but this album wasn't the most amazing thing ever by either artist. But it was fun, and it is classic, and the guys were already rock stars, so who how can you not love it?

When the Cat's Away...

Well, I was following this story, anyway...

EMILY THE STOWAWAY CAT LANDS IN WISCONSIN

By RYAN NAKASHIMA, Associated Press Writer

Thu Dec 1

MILWAUKEE - Emily the cat is back — after flying home in the lap of luxury. The curious cat who wound up traveling to France in a cargo container touched down at the Milwaukee airport on Thursday, greeted by her family and a horde of reporters.

A Continental cargo agent handed her over to 9-year-old Nick Herndon, son of the cat's owners, Donny and Lesley McElhiney. Emily meowed and pawed at reporters' microphones as the family answered questions.

"She'll be held onto a lot all the way home. And then when we get home, too, she'll be cuddled a lot," Donny McElhiney said.

Her sumptuous return in business class on a Continental Airlines flight was a sharp departure from her trip to France, where she was found thin and thirsty but still alive.

"She seems a little calmer than she was before, just a little quieter, a little, maybe, wiser," said Lesley McElhiney, 32.

Emily vanished from her Appleton home in late September. She apparently wandered into a nearby paper company's distribution center and crawled into a container of paper bales. The container went by truck to Chicago and by ship to Belgium before the cat was found Oct. 24 at Raflatac, a laminating company in Nancy, France. Workers there used her tags to phone her veterinarian, who called the McElhineys.

Continental offered to fly the cat home from Paris after Emily's tale spread around the world and she cleared a one-month quarantine. "This was such a marvelous story, that we wanted to add something to it," Continental spokesman Philippe Fleury told AP Television News at Charles de Gaulle airport. After one Continental employee escorted Emily from Paris to Newark, N.J., cargo agent Gaylia McLeod accompanied the cat aboard a 50-seater from Newark to Milwaukee.

"I know it's close to the holidays," a tearful McLeod said. "I'm happy to be a part of reuniting Emily with her family."

On her flight home, Emily passed up a menu of peppered salmon filet and "opted for her French cat food" and some water, airline spokeswoman Courtney Wilcox said.

Apparently all that French food did Emily some good. "She's bigger and heavier than before," Nick said.

Don't You Forget About Me

Dax Pierson, a wonderful human being paralyzed in a car accident while on tour last February, is still working on recovery. Since the holidays are coming, and you may want to buy something for the slightly experimental music lover in your life... Why not make it a gift for two? All proceeds go to Dax's recovery fund.


Irreplaceable Hand: A Benefit CD for Dax Pierson featuring brand new, exclusive songs from Odd Nosdam, Matmos, Nurse With Wound, A.C. Way, High Vulture, Thomas Carnacki, Galena, irr.app.(ext.), Barely Human Dancetheatre, Sleep On It, Moe!Staiano, Petit Mal, & Lucifer Meltdown

For more info, check out Dax's webpage.

Speed and Sleep

There is this other blogger out there in the blogsphere that I'm into reading when I have the time... Her name is Kristin Hersh, and she fronts a band called 50 Foot Wave. She also does brilliant solo stuff and used to co-front this college band with her sister.

Yea, I love this woman's music. No matter what. Anyway, check out the Throwing Music website, see what's new, download some free tunes. She is one of the real ones, a true talent that isn't in it to make money, just wants the music to be heard. She and her wonderful family are a band of kind hearted gypsies I am fortunate enough to have befriended over the years and can assure you - she is worth supporting.

Here's a bit of her blog. Go here to read more. She's pretty funny, actually, although this isn't one of her funnier moments. It sort of touches on why her music continues to resonate with me, as it seems to do with her.

22 November 2005

Mania

I want to take this particular minute and address the shared concern some of you have expressed to me -- that I seem to hate my old songs, particularly Throwing Muses songs. I'm in London this morning, having played an entire set of Throwing Muses songs at the Scala last night and I want you to know that I truly enjoyed every song I played, though I was close to tears for a few dangerous moments.

These old songs are difficult, prickly and angry and I can handle that. The problem, I believe, is one of relevance, and not in the way you might think: it's that they are STILL relevant. If I could leave these feelings and stories behind me, I could fly through the material like a cover band: wheeeeeeeeeeee! But those same goddamn feelings are ongoing and so is that same goddamned story. I'm ashamed of this, to be honest. I had big plans that did not include being the same person who wrote those songs 20 years after the fact.

Solo acoustic and 50FootWave songs move me just as hard, tear me the hell apart, in fact, but in a GOOD way. And I don't have to remember anything but the music when I play them. To be in the middle of an old Throwing Muses song is to be living in my car again, pregnant, diagnosed schizophrenic and subsequently drugged, cutting myself, sleeping on floors, hiding from stalkers I wasn't famous enough to deserve, getting felt up at the bar, fighting for the $50 in gas money the band earned per show (club people regularly pulled guns on me), each new song a Sheherazade story keeping me alive only to hear how it ends.

So, I'm not whining, I'm just saying that life was unpleasant back then and was actually about to get much, much worse. Life is real hard...duh-uh.

And now, I gotta say, life isn't easy: I work harder, I care more and if I was ever crazy, well, then, I feel the same as I always did, so I guess I've got that going for me, too. But life is amazing. Really amazing.

I appreciate your concern, but I'm nobody to worry about.

Love,
Kristin

Quote of the Day

The discovery of two large pieces of the Titanic's hull on the ocean floor indicates that the fabled luxury liner sank faster than previously thought, researchers said Monday... Explorer Robert Ballard found the bulk of the wreck in 1985, at a depth of 13,000 feet and about 380 miles southeast of Newfoundland. Ballard was not impressed with the expedition's find.

"They found a fragment, big deal," he said. "Am I surprised? No. When you go down there, there's stuff all over the place. It hit an iceberg and it sank. Get over it."

Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You

Beastie Radio

Thursday December 8 @ 12 noon (PST) we launch our newest show on Little Radio.

The BEASTIE BOYS - Adam Horovitz (King Ad-Rock) ~ Adam Yauch (MCA) ~ Michael Diamond (Mike D) will begin hosting their own show exclusively on Littleradio.com. They'll be spinning music, talking and basically doing whatever the fuck they want.

So tune in.

Rockin' on a Schoolnight!

Brought to you by Ladies Mo & Rachael, at the beloved Shorty:

10pm - 2am
Tuesday, December 6, 2005
The Short Stop
1455 W Sunset Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90026

Um... what records do we have to play... stuff like M.I.A., Sly & the Family Stone, Elastica, Kayne West, Tones On Tail, Marlena Shaw, Stone Roses, Spencer Davis, Lady Sovereign, Janet Jackson, Supremes, Soft Cell, Deep Purple, LCD, ODB, ELO, Kasabian, Gang of Four, Rufus & Chaka, you know. The guilty pleasure stuff we no longer feel guilty about. Come dance the night away with us! (Or at least drink with us - jeez!)

Not So Secret BRMC Show... at the Hotel Cafe!

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club:
acoustic. 2 shows. 1 night.

Thursday, December 15th.
Early Show 830pm (Doors 7pm),
Late Show 1030pm (Doors 10pm)

Presale tickets are available at the hotel cafe during regular business hours.
(7pm-midnight, 7 days a week)

A Limited # of tickets will be available at the door.

Black Sunday

I went on a picnic today with a friend, since the weather was so nice and surprisingly warm this early December. We met up at Bronson Park, just under the Hollywood sign in a small grassy area off a little road. My friend had quite a spread: some cheeses and hummus and pita and fruit, etc... And, of course, booze. We plowed through a bottle of champagne while making pals with a black pug also visiting the park with his owners, a group of black clad, high laced boots wearin' black metal cholos.

They were so hardcore, even their dog was black. Get it?

Well, the pug, it turned out (a very friendly little thing as pugs seem to be) was named Frankenstein. I was giving him a good backscratch when his mom came up and apologized for his intrusion. "Come on, Frankenstein, let's go." And then Frankenstein let loose a loud rumble that would do Napalm Death proud. I was floored. No wonder they picked this dog. But, obviously, he wanted to hang with us. So he did for a bit, then wandered back to his picnic area.

Then my friend and I were approached by a young couple who wanted to take a picture of our "location." My friend asked what they were talking about, and the guy said, "Well, we're taking stills for a presentation of a film we're doing, and we need a picnic scene, but we didn't bring any picnic stuff, so we wondered if..." "So," I interrupted, "You want us to take pictures of you sitting with our stuff, pretending it's yours?" "Yea." "Oh. Okay." We took some pictures of them pretending to be eating our olives and pouring our wine, and then they were off.

In the meantime, the nice death metal kids were setting up a pinata. It was a stumpy bride, with a bloody wound over her heart and a glow-in-the-dark hockey mask over her face. It was, hands down, the creepiest pinata I've ever seen. My friend and I immediately got up to take pictures and cheer them on. Only the girls were hitting the pinata, and they were doing so with a studded club.

They busted one leg off, then the other (the club kept sticking in the pinata), and finally they tore it down. It was filled with little ziplock snack bags which had tabasco sauce in them. My friend said, "Hey, is that supposed to be blood?" And one of the guys said, "We thought it would break when they hit it." I go, "Maybe next time put it in the lining of the pinata." "Yea! Hey!" Then they strung up the groom equivalent pinata. I didn't feel right intruding on their bridal bash party for anymore pictures, besides... Frankenstein was eating out pita bread.

(I really tried to get a picture of Frankenstein, but he was very wiggly. It just would have been a blur of big googley eyes anyway.)