Zombie Jazz

Thanks to Robert Jacobson for passing along this photo of the fifteen piece version of the IJG (which debuted last Sunday). Don't know who actually took the shot--it wasn't Robert, as he's in it--but because of the weird blurring and the bizarre "eye effect" (not redeye exactly, but something similar) it looks to me like we've just returned from the dead. In fact, we had just finished a rather exhausting--though exhilirating--show.

To my ears, the experiment was a success, so fifteen pieces will now be the default size for the group.

Pee Wee rides again

One of the great unsung heroes of American culture now has his own day.

The seedy underbelly of Hollywood (you know, the stuff that is actually interesting)

Fellow bloggers and Hollywood insiders at Query Letters I Love have taken it upon themselves to post the wackiest "query letters" they have received ("query letter" is industry-speak for a missive pitching a film or tv series idea). Funny thing is, most of this stuff is more interesting (albeit strange) than anything Hollywood actually wants to produce. My favorite one so far is Fat Journalist: the Manitoba Years. (Come on, doesn't that sound more fun than yet another episode of The Apprentice?)

The comments are a blast too.

Question

Why does the background of Larry King's studio look like it's made out of Lite Brite?

One-of-a-kind art

Get it here.

Upcoming IJG (from the list)

Q: How many jazz musicians does it take to screw in a light bulb?

A: We thought it was ten, but maybe it's actually fifteen.

* * * * *

That's right, the Industrial Jazz Group will be debuting its fifteen piece incarnation this Sunday (details below). Earplugs recommended (but not necessary).

I don't know what the short and snappy label for such a grouping would be (fifteen-tet?), but I do know which of our esteemed colleagues will be participating. They are, in no particular order:

Ben Wendel (soprano sax); Cory Wright (soprano and alto sax); Dan Boissy (alto sax); Brian Walsh (tenor sax, clarinet); Matt Otto (tenor sax); Damon Zick (baritone sax); Phil Rodriguez (trumpet); Kris Tiner (trumpet); Dan Rosenboom (trumpet); Shaunte Palmer
(trombone); Robyn Javier (trombone); Robert Jacobson (guitar); Aaron Kohen (bass); Dan Schnelle (drums); Andrew Durkin (piano, conducting, compositions, unrealistic expectations).

Stellar players all. (Much too good for this group, in fact.)

We’ll be performing a set of mostly-new material, which has been conceived as a sort of post-apocalyptic ballet in search of some dancers.

Also on the bill that evening are, first, a new as-of-yet unnamed quartet featuring tunes by Ornette Coleman, Brad Shepik, Robert Jacobson, Oliver Newell, and others (with Oliver Newell: bass, Matt Mayhall: drums, Robert Jacobson: guitar, Ryan Perez Daple: woodwinds). And second, the infamous Pablo Calogero Trio.

Hope you can make it!

* * * * *

DETAILS:

Sunday, September 25, at Club Tropical.

Music starts at 6 pm, IJG goes on at 9 pm and will be playing ONE SET ONLY.

Club Tropical is located at 8641 W.Washington Blvd., in Culver City. (FYI, they make the best Salvadoran food you will ever eat.)

Cover: $10 ($5 for students and former "Jazz on a Monday Vibe" patrons).

All ages admitted.

*A portion of the proceeds from this show will go toward Hurricane Relief.*

Now here's something you don't do every day

This morning I cut my thumb on a piece of cheese. It hurt like a motherfucker.

(Explanation: I was cleaning the side of a saucepan onto which some cheese had melted, hardened, and then hardened some more.

Either that, or the cheese stabbed me with a little machete.)

False teeth advertising

A sign seen today:

In really large letters, the words "Free Teeth."
In smaller letters, right underneath: "Whitening!"

I really need to get a camera phone to capture these moments.

More of the mashed stuff, please

I recently discovered Mashuptown, which is sort of an aggregator of various mashups around the web, mostly with a bias toward the strictly dance-oriented stuff. Nothing wrong with that, but nothing I've heard here tops the scope, humor, sophistication, and general magnificence of "A Night at the Hip-Hopera."

Still, there is some good shit, so to speak. My favorite track of what I've heard so far is "Smells Like Booty" (posted last May), which wins points as much for its title as for its musical content: a combination of two particularly monstrous (in more ways than one) hits by Destiny's Child and Nirvana. (By the way, April Winchell recently had a hilarious post that catalogued many of the too many covers of "Smells Like Teen Spirit"-- one of which finds the tune decked out in a gregorian chant style (April's commentary: "smells like nap time").)

Also worth checking out: "Jim, Can You Tell Me How To Get To Sesame Street?" (The Doors plus the Macarena plus the Muppets.)

Hitler Youth

Ah! An old post that I never finished. Let me have at it again.

So a few weeks ago I stumbled into the living room at 6 AM, in a half-hungover, half-arthritic daze, and turned on (what else?) C-SPAN. What to my wondering eyes should appear but an absurdist convention, only slightly disguised as the 27th Annual National Conservative Student Conference. What a way to start the day. Dada isn't dead, it has just become a tool of the right.

Technically, the college kids who assembled for this upside-down hoe-down aren't really in a cult. But it's hard to tell for sure. Why do they all look the same? Why do they all talk the same? Why all the toothy fucking grins?

Truth be told, as someone who spends a good deal (probably way too much, actually) of his time moonlighting in the day-to-day workings of one university in particular, I can tell you that even if there is a liberal bias among humanities professors (which may or may not be true, and may or may not be a bad thing if true), the rest of this environment--the administration, the fraternities / sororities, the trustees, the sports teams, the student body in general--is fairly biased toward the corporate money / power / status nexus. They may not all be pro-Bush, but they tend to love the social status quo--either because they benefit from it already or because they expect to benefit from it soon. So to see this same contingent complaining about "discriminatory treatment"... well, it's just utterly unconvincing to me.

It's also fairly hypocritical.

Turn your Mac inside out

Like this: CTRL-ALT/OPTION-[Apple-key]-8. Same combination to turn it back.


Groovy! Thanks to Cheese Bikini.

'Cause disasters don't rest...

(Even though the president does.)

What we've got here is a FEMA-produced "kidz rap" (kindly ripped and posted by the good folks at Music for Maniacs) about... what else? Disasters.

One line jumped out at me:

"Disaster prep is your responsibility
And mitigation is important to our agency."

So there you have it. FEMA doesn't take responsibility for "disaster prep." That's up to everyone else.

Good gawd, this stuff isn't even funny anymore.

The view from Everest

No, really. Check it out.

Beatle-mania

The Beatles were sort of technologically innovative in their heyday. Why is it that their corporate remnants are such Luddites?

A related question: how much more money do they really need to squeeze out of that back catalog? Why not do something bold and inspiring for the first time in, I don't know, thirty years: just make it all available for free?

Now there's a sentence you don't hear every day

Just heard on CNN:

"Tonight, on Larry King Live: the Dalai Lama takes your calls!"

For reference

Go here to see how much territory the flood would have covered in your hometown.

He's so rich, so German

In honor of that vacuous putz Wolf Blitzer, Daphne and I have been adding "so black" to the end of our sentences at every opportunity.

Fr'instance: "What's for dinner? I'm so hungry, so black." Or: "I think I'll turn in. I'm so tired, so black."

Try it, it's fun.

Lookit

I credit political cartoons with getting me interested in the subject of politics. I can remember sitting in Mr. Tamburo's high school history class (was it called social studies then?), bored out of my mind, drawing caricatures of both Reagan and Mondale (this was during the presidential campaign between the two of 'em). And I used to love to look through the "year's best political cartoon" anthologies--these were among the few volumes I was actually glad our library carried.

Anyway, I just saw the drawing above, liked it, and decided to pass it along. (Why, I wonder, does the president seem to be leading with his crotch?)

Thanks to Molly Douthett.

Not a second career (but we should still kick him out of his current one)

Discovered this great site, and was astounded by the above picture and accompanying analysis. What an ugly, resonant image. My caption: "One of the motherlode cities of American music is being destroyed, but the president can't hear it over the sound of his own wretched, egomaniacal twanging."

There's some amazing stuff at the bagnews site: highly recommended.

Jesus Fucking Christ

She may as well have said that things are going swimmingly.