Author: nikkie

From an early age, music has been an influential force in Nikkiesha’s life. From the time they discovered Michael Jackson and wanted to sing and break dance like the King of Pop, to being so consumed that Nikkiesha and their siblings performed talent shows in their living room while their parents were both audience and judges, they knew the importance of music. Nikkiesha (Nikkie) grew up with music around them! In addition to countless talent shows, their home was literally seconds away from a panyard - Panosonic Connection Steel band Orchestra’s panyard. On many late nights, when they should have been asleep, Nikkie’s parents would find the seven year old perched at their bedroom’s window listening to the orchestra practice for the largest steelpan competition in the world: Panorama. Nikkie’s older brother played the tenor pan for the orchestra. It was witnessing their brother practice which ignited their mesmerized obsession with the instrument. Nikkie took any opportunity to try and play the song their brother was practicing. They didn't care how much noise they made, or how many times they got into trouble for beating their brother’s tenor pan. Nikkie couldn't resist the pan’s allure. Their love and passion for the steel-pan never died after the age of seven, as twelve year old Nikkie, determined to be a part of the steel-pan culture, began running away to the panyard, and giving the rehearsal director hell - picking up the orchestra’s panists’ sticks and beating any of the unattended steel-pans. At the time, they were unaware of the difference between beating and playing the pan or any other percussive instrument. The rehearsal director started them off on the Gurndig - better known as the Double Guitar. The Gurndig is similar to the rhythm guitar in a rock band. He told Nikkie if they can learn and master how to play the Gurndig well, they could then move onto their desired pan: the shiny chrome tenor, the soprano, the lead pan in the orchestra. Knowing they weren’t going to stop running away to Panosonic's panyard, Nikkie’s dad decided to become the orchestra's manager. As Nikkie got older, they began listening to R&B, Blues, Jazz, Rap/Hip-Hop and Rock music. To their great enthusiasm to hear and experience different forms of music, after migrating to the US, Nikkie was exposed to sub-genres and even more diverse sounds. Inspired they began to play different instruments: acoustic guitar, the congas, and the drum-kit. Eventually spending more time behind the drum-kit, Nikkie began playing with various rock and punk groups. Most notable, the woman fronted rock trio Telenovela Star whose single, "Car Song" was the theme music for The N Channel’s Beyond The Break. After many years of playing behind the drum-kit, Nikkiesha is bringing all that they have learned to create and produce their first album, which is a tribute to their late mother and brother.

Sneaker Lover

Saucony BlueIt’s no secret that I’m a sneaker and t-shirt enthusiast.  For me, outside of being in the nude, t-shirts, sneakers and jeans-wearing seems like the most practical and comfortable way of being.  But of-course it depends on what color, the humor, and the softness of the t-shirt; the cut and snugability of the jeans; and the subtle but yet fashionable walkability of the sneaker. 

So I bought two pairs of Original Saucony Jazz sneakers this week: a blue and grey/red.   Two, because of my phobia of a garment I like  being discontinued.  What kind of phobia is this?  I really would like to know. 

I love original Saucony Jazz sneakers. And for some reason I can’t play the drums in any other shoe.  This maybe because, by Saucony standards, the Original Jazz is “the most technical performance running shoe of its time.”  They’re just that comfortable.  I feel like my feet are cocooned in a firm but feathered cushion.  And it’s affordable, just $50 a pair. 

The Saucony Jazz collection came out in 1981, and soon became the company’s most popular shoe, and the cornerstone for the Saucony Original Collection.  I remember when I got my first pair.  I was a freshman living in a punk house in Maryland.  They were black and I wore the shit out of them: from class to stomping in a mush pit to my graduation.  I remember when they were on they’re last legs and I had to duck tape the sole.  Back then, $50 could of bought me a month’s supply of groceries: rice and beans, noodles, yogurt, fruit, coffee, beer, toothpaste, soap, and toilet paper.  Ahh, the good ole days.

This time I decided to stray from my safe colors of  black or blue, and I got a pair of these:

 Saucony Reds

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m feeling the Army, too:

Saucony Army

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Saucony Black/Oatmeal Vegan

 

And oh, these black/oatmeal (yes they’re called oatmeal) vegan!  Yum!Reminiscent of my vegan years, which wasn’t political or for health reasons.  I just didn’t care for meat, and since I’m not into cheese or milk, it was pretty easy.  Now, I’m just an omnivore.

Recession Chardonnay

Photo taken by me 🙂

Lately, I’ve been gravitating towards more of the “heavy” music, like metal, punk, and noise rock. I blame it all on a backlash behavior: rejecting the current trend of bubble-gum lo-fi recycled 80s pop music, that music reviewers and the dying dinosaur that is the music industry, are labeling as “rock”. They obviously don’t know the difference between heavy rock and some tame quasi folk/electronic dance song.

Don’t get me wrong, I have a space in my heart for folk songs and electronic music, especially the ones that dare to take some risks. Risk?  Because that’s all you got: guts and a blurring-the-line sense of humor.

Another reason I’ve been going heavy is that I feel like there’s so much to scream and be angry about.  We’ve been in a sort of zombie complacency, lackadaisical mummification, “I don’t care” state. A glaring example is the 8 years of having an idiot be a representative-leader for one of the most influential countries in the world (obviously, even in America fleeing monarchy and fascism is incredibly difficult).

One can argue that heavy doesn’t go with the current times that are affecting this incredible difficulty.   From the way we wear our hair to the very way we walk, this economic crisis was foreshadowed by the  however the cause was ignored. Maybe life should be concerned in a shift of what and when we want to recognize the fuckery? in the American way of being : a big, loud, bully is now passe.  Well maybe. We’re going green, even though going green doesn’t change the Manichean paradigm.

This world divided into compartments, this world cut in two is inhabited by two different species. The originality of the colonial context is that economic reality, inequality, and the immense difference of ways of life never come to mask human realities. When you examine at close quarters the colonial context, it is evident that what parcels out the world is to begin with the fact of belonging to or not belonging to a given race, a given species. The colonial world is a Manichean world. Frantz Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth, 40, 41.

If what “parcels out the world is to “belong to a given race,” then in the same way that we are divided by color, we are as well divided by gender, sexual orientation, immigration… and whatever anew division we choose to distract ourselves with and call the enemy. And consequently, we’ll never understand ourselves.

Human social development will never be the foreground and continue we go on this path to perpetuate a Manichean pulse in contemporary live thought/living, never as a History left behind, never as a backward thinking.

Thus, I feel a great affinity towards yelling and fucking shit up! It’s very therapeutic. I recommend it completely; that and going up to a tree in the forest and screaming loudly. It’s good for you, try it.

Anyway, in no particular order, here’s a couple of bands helping me along the healing process. I thank them with all my heart for their insanity.

Life... The Best Game In Town
Life… The Best Game In Town

Harvey Milk‘s Life… The Best Game In Town. I was pleasantly surprised while searching for a review on the movie  Milk.  I discovered the metal band from Athens, Georgia. with the same name. Intrigued, I looked them up and was immediately hooked by their sound: a fusion of experimental, psychedelic, noise rock and sludge metal. Granted, I have never been one to find growling vocals appealing, but it’s different with Harvey Milk, maybe it’s the timber of purposefulness in the growl. Faves: Death Goes to the Winner, Decades, After All I’ve Done For You,…, We Destory the Family, Motown, Barnburner.

 

 

 

WizardryWizardry is a five piece NYC metal band, I saw for the first time at Trash Bar, and they were very entertaining. I highly recommend seeing them live, because they know how to put on a show. With their glam rock look and theatrics, and actual smoke machine, I was really impressed with their effort to make the stage their own. But they’re not just about theatrics and stage presence, these guys can play.  With intricate drumming, insane guitars, and strong vocals, Wizardry will definitely dazzle you with their magic.  I can’t wait for their upcoming album.

 

 

SpylacopaSpylacopa. Another NYC band, that a friend of mine turned me onto and to whom I’m now forever indebted. Spylacopa was just what I needed. When I played their debut EP on my ipod, I immediately knew that it was right, because they made meh pores raise (a saying from Trinidad, meaning, I got goose-bumps). With their skilled transitions and ample ability to switch genres in a fleeting second, a testament to their progressive sound, they’re at times noise rock delivered purpose and direction. An example would be when switching from the heavy, noise with a purpose tracks to the ambient piano/keyboard instrumental track, Together We Become Forever, and the very moody Sigur Rós sounding, I Should Have Known You Would. Faves: Bloodletting, I Should Have Known You Would.

 

Goes Cube Goes Cube. A noise rock power trio from you guessed it, NYC. My band actually had the great pleasure of playing on a bill with these guys, and they are awesome. They are a punishing combo of rock, punk and metal. Goodness! I remember the first time I saw them live, they made my ears bleed. I don’t think I ever regained the hearing I lost.

 

The Bedlam In GoliathMars Volta‘s The Bedlam in Goliath because it’s just brilliant. Mars is the epitome of progressive rock, they fuse latin/african, jazz, funkadelic beats with punk experimental rock. With orchestral musical arrangements, they take prog to a heightened level that when listening, you can’t help but think this is the electric version of classical music. It’s that multi-layered and expansive. I must admit I was a bit disappointed with their previous album, Amputechture.  I felt like it was way too abstract and I couldn’t grasp anything. Even though this may have been the point of the album, as an avid fan I couldn’t bear it. A buddy of mine shared the same feeling, up until he listened to Amputechture under the influence. Apparently, the album is less abstract while on drugs: everything makes more sense. It’s almost like what people said about some rock music back in the day, that it was evil and if you played the record backwards you’d hear the devil. Spooky. Anyway, The Bedlam in Goliath is a complete 360, my only criticism is that at times the repetition was a bit too much. Faves: Ilyena, Wax Simulacra, Goliath, Cavalettas, Askepios, Ouroborous, Memories.

 

Marnie Stern

Marnie Stern‘s This Is It and I Am It and You Are It and So Is That and He Is It and She Is It and It Is It and That Is That. Probably one of the longest titles ever. I feel like I’m embarking on a study.  I’m listening to a dissertation for a sociological/cultural studies thesis, that sounds like a mixture of AC/DC, Erase Errata, and Stern’s very own powerful voice as a songwriter.  And what I’ve learn in the center is that I am it and my future is it!  Faves: Prime, Transformer, Shea Stadium, The Crippled Jazzer, Simon Says, Roads? Where We’re Going We Don’t Need Roads.

 

 

 

 

Helms Alee
Helms Alee

 

Helm Alee‘s Night Terror. Helms Alee is an experimental, sludge metal, rock trio from Seattle Washington whose sound reminds me of the Twin Peaks soundtrack.  With their pensive moodiness, great melodies, and  hard wailing beats, mixed with at times delicate vocals, and then at others yelling,  Helm Alee makes me feel like they’re preaching (in a good way). I feel like obeying them as I shake my head yes, yes, YEAH!  I really hope they can visit NYC sometime soon.  Faves:Honestly all of them.   They capture most of the moments in my day to day.

 

 

 

MORE TO COME!

 

Seeker: Compos Mentis?

This is a revision of an earlier post.

I want my mind
I want my mind
I want it!
More than you know.
I want my own mind

I want it clever, clearer than any of you
Than whatever it may be….

I must admit that my previous post was ridiculously morbid. So much so that I didn’t want anyone to see it, so I made it private. My apologies to anyone who did read that mess (Ha, like anyone is reading…shh). Maybe I can work on it a little more. Make it more likable.

Like everyone (that’s what you tell yourself, so you won’t go mad), I’m having one of those terrible weeks.  Well to be sure it’s been more than a week. More like 6 months, quite possibly from birth. And when I say terrible I mean… (you really don’t have to tell them. Just because it’s a blog doesn’t mean you have to spill everything. Save some for me.  For later).

But the thing is, I’m supposed to be better by now. I’m taking the sugar pills. Sugar pills, because they look like granulated sweetness, and I don’t believe that they’re really going to work. My lover, Paramour, angrily disapproves of my disposition, she said I had to have some faith. I laughed at her, because faith has never been one of my strong points. This is my second week and apparently it’s supposed to kick in by now.

I can’t say that I’ve noticed a difference, but then again, maybe I’d have to dissociate myself from myself to really see what I look like.

Did that sentence make sense?

Am I making sense?

I must be.

Hmm…

Well, this is just a draft anyway. I’ll return when I have another fever and with fresh new eyes and less friends, and no family, I’ll make my repairs.

Anyway, what was I talking about? Oh yes, dissociation. But aren’t we doing that right now? Maybe the key is to look at how people around you react when you do something, anything (Maybe you should periodically make yelping sounds). Ah now that can be informative. Even if it’s based on assumptions, it’s informative? (Okay, this is boring). There’s some level of knowing, there are tells.

Maybe I should talk about my visit to the Cognitive Corrective Repair Clinic (CCRC), and the three words to remember: red, shoe, …?  Yes, Yes, Yes!

I’m not fond of the CCRC, with good reasons that I can list, but what would be the point of that? It was the analyst’s recommendation. It was the analyst who kept pressing the issue of a visit to the CCRC after each private forum session. The analyst worked really hard to convince me, but what pushed me over the edge was another one of those malfunctioning processor episodes that lasted for more than a week. I decided to try. See what happens, if anything I’ll have more data than before (Yeah, but what type of data: spam or recycled ideations?). Idempotent, Idempotent, Idempotent!

At the CCRC, the receptionist with her two screens for her mainframe, one for maintaining the live records of all old and new seekers that’s directly linked to the Health Corp–the global health cartel–, and the other for calendars, directories, notices, announcements. She didn’t believe my clean suit was exactly that, clean. I was the best well-dressed seeker ever. Unfortunately, I didn’t win a prize for looking functional. Oh, but she could care less that I wanted to look good, especially if they were going to detain my mainframe. Well, maybe it’s because the receptionist thought you were a guy. (Come on now, no more sidetracking, and who is this talking? There’s only room for one. The room is filled!). Focus, focus. Hocus, Pocus!

Okay yeah, the receptionist did label me “sir”. But it could be that she’s a Neo-Luddite, against all forms of advancement, technology or otherwise, and refuses to do an upgrade.  Then, how is she not relieved of her post? How is she not relieved of her post.  She’s not relieved of her post. Relieved of her post.  Her post. Post. (It’s the CCRC, and no one gives a shit).  At this point, I really don’t care. Besides they usually overcompensate with pinkness and apologies. She didn’t. (Great Scire! You’re so long winded. No wonder you’re a blogger). Can I just say, that this is the most fun all week.

Anyway, the receptionist, didn’t listen to the soundwave I sent her which said loud and clear–I was on my best behavior, I practiced using a simulaton, rehearsing my script–that I was there to see the Scientist. But the receptionist heard something else and sent me on a wild goose chase which involved going through double doors that locked behind you.  And you don’t have a key. With the aid of a lost janitor– first day on the job– I survived the trap doors and came right back where I started: at the receptionist’s desk. And I sent her another soundwave, “I’m here to see the Scientist.” She then informed me that I had given her three different characters, “And each of them are unique you see,” she informed me.  Defending myself was useless even in my clean suit. Well, honestly your hair was still very messy.

I had been waiting for an hour.

Because I was gone for awhile and the reprimand from the receptionist after,  I lost my place as just a spectator. I had to sit next to an elderly lady. Every five minutes she sent a loud wave to no one in particular, “How long have you been waiting? I’ve been waiting for 3 hours.  I’ve given up on my mainframe.”

There was another guy talking to the receptionist. His wave was impaired, it kept buffering.   Too slow.   His eyes were bloodshot. Like all of us, he came because he wanted answers. A Scientist came and gave the guy a survey to fill out: When was your last…? How much….? Do you get the…? Have you ever….? The Scientist waved that there wasn’t sufficient grounds to conduct an experiment, because this seeker (the guy) did not have any toxins seeping out of his pores like vapor. I instantly went up to the guy and offered him some Prosecco, the good kind. Because he had a reason to celebrate. (What? That didn’t happen.  You couldn’t even look at the guy.  And where exactly were you hiding the “good kind” of Prosecco?) Well, if I had Prosecco, I would have offered it to this guy just so toxins could seep out of his pores like vapor. (Stop rambling and get to the point.) What, where’s the point? There’s a point? Isn’t is a point? There’s only loops and alogorithms.  Sad.

A woman about my age approached me.  She looked normal, I guess (Oh come on!  She seemed too content). How can someone seem too content? I wondered if she was on sugar pills, too?   She waved, “Excuse me, sorry, but I don’t think you should sit there. There was this guy sitting here, bugs were falling off of him. I think they were living on him.”

I lept up, as the elderly woman, like clock work, chimed in, “I’ve given up on my mainframe. How long have you been sitting here?!”

I then thought, perhaps she  (the mirror, the true normal one, that you could never aspire too, and can’t!) accidentally broadcasted a corrupted simulation.  Sometimes if the software is corrupted, simulations can become infected.  I guess the software might just be that good, but it will simply torment if it isn’t applied to a particular purpose.  (Whatever, you had already decided to believe that bagbiter.  Spaz!).  Of course I was scratching myself . (You’re such a compooter, if it wasn’t for me, you’d still be scratching, ha!).

By the time the Provisioner came for me, I was overstimulated and couldn’t focus. Hocus! Pocus! Shazam! (I’m going to swat you, I’m so going to swat you, you fly!)

Repeat after me, all of us:  Maintain eye contact.  Simulate before you wave.  Make sure it’s logic and not the absurd. 

I was waiting for someone, for the Provisioner maybe to come instead of  The Scientist…?  I wanted a Provisioner here (Even while you, we, shouldn’t trust anyone, but me?).

Introducing, The Provisioner, here, and right now.  (What makes them exactly different?) 

Whatever!  I’m still telling the story.  I’m still in Control? Right?  So shut-up!

Get Out!

Provisioners are the middle ground -most of the time- genuinely kinder and seemingly interested in more than control supplements.  

This one looks tired.  Really tired, like she had seen too much already and it was only 1:00pm on a Monday.  She did some test runs, and gave me a survey to fill out.  And I’m not going to fail. With my cheat screen and my script, I’m average. Well, that’s if I maintain function.  It’s always a question: when will the crash happen?  She idled and then waved, “Are you transitioning”. I laughed. She apologized for making me uncomfortable. I wasn’t.

She prompted those three words to remember.

I thought, “red, shoe, …?”

I couldn’t remember the last one. I must remember the last word.

Rock You! The Quest Continues

Here’s a few more bands/artists that rocked it in 2008 (previous post: This Time of Year):

The Roots
The Roots

The Roots‘s Rising Down. The Roots is my favorite hip hop band. Album after album, they’ve never lost themselves due to fame, however realized.  They kept true to their identity and have taken the hiphop art form to a whole new level, that no one in the genre has been capable of catching up too. The mere fact that they are an actual band makes them shine even brighter in my eyes.

Reminiscient of a Fela album cover, just by looking at Rising’s album art you’re given a feeling of rebellion.  A rebellion against the now status quo standing of a rap/hip hop album: the complacent cool of living it large.

I hear and feel the revival: the rush of wanting something other than what has been dealt, or what we make ourselves believe in. This feeling is ever so present in the song Singing Man. Singing Man evokes the traditional Sinnerman running but with no where to run to once the well has been sucked dry. This album brings us closer to that essence, of where and how Rap/Hip Hop began, before it’s quantification.  Once Sinnerman realized the profit in his asethetic: discounted as an individual, as a peoples stripped of everything, why turn back now when the reasons for looking back means reliving an ugly truth that everyone is petrified by and there’s no profit in that, well maybe. And the future that you dream is just as horrific, if you follow what is being displayed in contemporary media who devel in the fluff. We all ignore the backlash, just waiting to bloom with it’s brooding revenge. It’s already begun.

Rising Down is the renissance of Rap/Hip Hop. It looks back and embraces the struggles and fight of a peoples… Not only is Rising Down a rebellion against…. it is a celebration of this unapologetic freedom to reject….

Faves: Lost Desire, I Will Not Apologize, Rising Down, Singing Man, Criminal.


The Magnetic Fields
The Magnetic Fields

 

The Magnetic Fields‘s Distortion. This album reminds me so much of Jorge Borges‘s poem Mutations. Maybe it’s because I was reading the poem while listening to Distortion. Or maybe it’s because the album sounds like a mutated Joy Division, that’s been distorted into a noise pop pulp fiction soundscape that’s centered on well written, humorous ballads that I secretly snicker about in a dark corner.  I really enjoyed Distortion. So much so, that Please Stop Dancing is responsible for this poem: Words.  Faves: Three-Way, Old Fools, Xavier Says, Please Stop Dancing, Too Drunk to Dream.

 

 

The Kills
The Kills

 

The Kills‘s Midnight Boom. The Kills is a electronic, rock, indie, pop duo, that I’ve been following  for sometime now.  With their lo-fi sound: danceable drum machine beats, dirty guitars, mixed with bluesy vocals and very catchy cynical lyrics, Midnight Boom is, maybe, my favorite of theirs.  Faves: U.R.A. Fever,  Last Day of Magic, M.E.X.I.C.O, What New York Used to Be, Night Train.

 

 

 

 

RockferryDuffy‘s Rockferry.  Like Adele, I consciously resisted Duffy when I first heard Rockferry at a Starbucks.  Fortunately for me, I got over my hypocritical snobbery, because this girl can sing some Motown soul.  Rockferry‘s sound maintains this back in the day lost love gospel with success, as you begin to grieve along with Duffy’s sorrowful vocal range.  You feel like crying too.  Faves: Rockferry, Warwick Avenue, Stepping Stone, Syrup & Honey, Hanging on Too Long, Distant Dreamer.

 

 

  

TV On The Radio
TV On The Radio

 

TV On The Radio, Dear Science.  Honestly, I don’t know what’s the big deal about this album.  Yes it’s good, but it doesn’t make meh pores raise (a saying from Trinidad, meaning, I got goose-bumps) as everyone is going on and on about it.   And when I say good, I mean this is a really well made and produced album, but there isn’t anything radically great as music reviewers ranting and cheers would have you believe.  It doesn’t change my hearing perspective or awareness, and maybe it’s because that wasn’t the album’s intent or maybe it’s just because there’s nothing new here.  If they’re not sounding like Seal or Eddy Grant, they’re playing Afrobeat and or Calypso music, like for instance the songs Crying, Dancing Choose, Stork & Owl, Golden Age, Red Dress all sound like a track from one of my favorite calypsoians, David Rudder or even Andre Tanker.   I did however appreciate the care and effort that these guys took into making this album.  I also appreciated their conscious lyricism that was critical of our current social and economic state, another aspect that makes me cling to the idea that Dear Science is a hybrid of a calypso album, because the very purpose of a calypsoian/calypso music is to critique and deconstruct the current events of society.  As much as I dig the fact that they’re mixing calypso and afrobeat into their sound, I still don’t get the hype, but then again music is so subjective.  Faves: Halfway Home, Golden Age, Family Tree, Red Dress, Love Dog.

 

The ComasThe Comas‘s Spells will cast a spell on you, as they combine great progessive 90s indie rock with dreamy, imaginative songwriting.  Even though this album came out in 2007, my bandmate, Maggie, and I can’t help but refer to this album on a rainy everything sucks and I’m bored day.  Unfortunately, the band is on an indefinite hiatus.  Faves: Red Microphones, I Am A Spider, Come My Sunshine, Stoneded, Sarah T., New Wolf.

New Song for the New Year

Telenovela Star
Telenovela Star

A couple of months ago, I met up with the other members of my band, just to hang-out and play some songs. We’ve been on a hiatus from playing out and practicing, since we’re practically broke and looking for employment and better lives (the real, on-going telenovela).  This has been a really difficult year for so many, not just us.  So good riddance 2008.

Anyway, we’ve been needing some sort of release for some time now, and meeting up just to play, not our set or unfinished songs, just to play loudly like we didn’t give a shit anymore, and feel the frustrations, the beast, bleed out.  This release felt like the best sort of cure for the thwart that’s been illing, suffocating us for some time now.

Of course I was late on the day, which sucked, because it takes forever to set a kit that’s not your own up, especially when it’s a piece of shit kit.  If anything this is a good metaphor for life:  never set-up or play anybody else’s piece of shit kit. 

Anyway, Maggie was fooling around on the keyboards, and Hanna on her bass. I quickly tried to set the mouse trap of a kit up. It was my worst set-up time ever: half an hour! After doing a three week residency at the Delancey earlier this year, I could set-up in like 5 minutes, 10 tops. Well, that was mostly nervous adrenaline, mixed with shots of Red Bull.

We were just messing around, spur of the moment playing, and then we started talking about this metal band that shared the studio space next door to our old studio, and how awesome we thought their musical arrangements were (lately we’ve been getting into metal). Maggie started talking about how she wanted to write a grave song, and of course that just started it all. Hanna started jokingly singing about loving a lover from the grave, while Maggie was playing on the keys, a blues progression to match Hanna’s bass and vocals. I came in with a slow blues beat, and it went straight to hell after that. We were so excited.  We had to play it again, and this time record it. We were hooked on what we had made, it felt so good. It honestly felt like a drug rushing through my veins.

We couldn’t get the melody out of our heads, even after our session at the studio ended. We kept humming this sketch, it was like a nursery rhyme. We just kept singing it over and over again, all through the streets of Manhattan’s Port Authority, laughing when one of us added a scandalous line to the lyrics.

I raced home hoping Hanna had emailed us the short recording of the song. I remember I couldn’t sleep that night, and for once it was for a positive reason. I kept giggling like a kid about our night, and the song. Ha! my poor lover, she puts up with so much. Luckily, she didn’t kick me out the bed that night. 

Anyway, we never had a chance to meet again before the holidays to flesh the song out, but Hanna did this incredible just keyboard version of it at home.

The name of the song is Carcass of Pleasure, our attempt at a metal song, well the lyrics are metal, but the melody is more blues, pop maybe? You decide.

After listening to Carcass, I suggest listening to Something In the Middle (see previous post) right away (on loud speakers, and dance around in front of a mirror, I do it all the time in just my underwear, and a broom as my microphone), since they sound so good together.

Enjoy, and as Yo! Majesty says, Never be afraid… Let the music set you free!

Listen to here: Carcass of Pleasure

The Power of Language

hands1
photo by Margo Conner

 It can enslave or liberate… You can lose yourself in language.

When I think about the power of language, I think about whose identity, whose culture, where am I, and who am I.

I hear sounds when I think about the power of language. I see images that are layered by probability and possibility. I think about seeds in the earth and how much I would like to be a gardener. I would like to plant. It’s the same with the power of language.

I wonder about truth, and can you really find it in words?  Or is it a feeling that is associated with a word, that is almost a conversation between the heart and the mind.

I wonder if it is the recollection, memory of what you associate with that sound, that taste, that smell, which feels like the memory of what it means to be that word.

 This train of thought was inspired by: Faith and Faithful

Ah, Panacea…

photo by Craig Marston
photo by Craig Marston
With this pull
crawling on all fours
a killing ease of breath
with this swallow
comes a lush
spawning a dancing line
bitter burnt out
cool regret.

With this…
as slender spirals
rush the room
careful of the outer air
exhale gently
as appetites loiter
a mouthful
Panacea.

It’s a Matter of Calcium

Chad Coombs
photo by Chad Coombs

 

Now ah days, these vitamins
they so smart, they so smart Ho!
You take one of them
and they know just where to go.

This is the second from the series: Vitamins & Photos.  I was watching the news one day, and one of the headlines was called: It’s a Matter of Calcium.  Apparently, according to the reporter, there was a growing epidemic where pre-teens were not getting enough calcium, and as a result were suffering with broken limbs. 

Vitamins and Photos:Revised

Ferenc Horvath
by Ferenc Horvath

 

 

caught up with the night
for five long years
I got caught up with the night

 

I lived in an apartment in Washington Heights, NYC, that overlooked a drug store, called Vitamins & Photos.  I thought it was a hilarious name for a drug store, since they obviously sold more than just vitamins, and processed photos.  In any event, I was drawn to this name/title, and decided to use it for the above poem.  Which then, inspired me to create poems around this theme, Vitamins and Photos.  With the help of some very creative photographers/artists on Flickr, I decided that I should also have photos that maybe, sometimes translate the words visually.

This Time of Year

Yup, it’s that time of year for list making and the best ofs…

But during this time of worry, wondering if my job is going to be there tomorrow, I’ve found this activity to be quasi healthy, as it perpetuates hopefulness. A promise. Something that I’m terrible at.

“Any tiny positive thing is good,” so says my lover, the Buddha. So, in an attempt to be hopeful about the future, I’ve created my list of favorite songs, and albums for 2008. Because as much as I make fun of her Buddha remarks, my lover is semi right. Reflecting on your favorite things, what makes you laugh, smile a little, that brings you joy is worth making a list of and keeping in your empty pocket, or maybe on your ipod.

In no particular order, here are a few of my favorite songs and albums, that kept me alive in 2008:

OBJECTObject’s Black Swan, because these kids reek awesomeness, especially live. I saw their last show for the year this past Friday night, and they did all new stuff, with the inclusion of their unrecorded and my favorite, Disappear. Most of their new stuff is instrumental metal, a new direction (maybe?), which began as a Halloween side project. These kids are sickly talented, and I can’t wait to hear what they bring in 2009. See previous post here: Object. Listen: OFF THE RECORD

THE NETHERLANDSThe Netherlands‘s BDF-German Hardcore, because they’re effin crazy, and their songs remind me of James Brown: some soul meets rock, meets noise possibly? My faves: Teenage Sun, BDF-German Hardcore, Warleola!, The Gogo Dancer, and The Cocain Knightz. This is a great band. I can’t wait for their insanity to explode. Listen: BDF GERMAN HARDCORE

YO! MAJESTYYo! Majesty‘s Kryptonite P***y EP and Futuristically Speaking… Never Be Afraid. Some of the words, and phrases I associate with Yo!: Risk Takers, Unapologetic, Dynamism, Hott, Scandalous, Blasphemous… Scandalous and Blasphemous because isn’t that what makes 2008 especially special? When we think about all our leaders being caught in the act, and all these words become attached to their behavior. Like “phenomena”, as if they’ve created a new trend. I wonder sometimes what exactly is phenomenal about what they’re doing, especially when they can get away with it. These guys, however, Yo! Majesty, push the queer in funkadelic, rap, hiphop. Added to this mix and their in your face lyrics Yo! fuses Soca and Club music, making their sound completely sick. Faves: Break Bread, Kryptonite P***y, Night Riders, Hott, Grindin’ And Shakin’, Never Be Afraid.

SWATI Swati‘s Big Bang. This is probably one of the most uplifting songs I’ve listened to in awhile. It makes me feel electric from my finger-tips to my toes. I walk to work imagining that I could play guitar like it was my sword, singing the lyrics like they were a spell, ready for whatever awaits me…

RENIMINBIRenminbi‘s The Phoenix. Renminbi, pronounced REN-MIN-BEE, is an experimental three piece, that kept changing drummers on me. My band had the opportunity to play with these guys, and they’re amazing: both as musicians and human beings. For me that’s all it takes. My faves: Lachine, Fight Song, Siren, The Shore. Listen: SIREN

pianowire1 Pianowire‘s The Throws, still gives me goose bumps, or as we say in Trinidad, make meh pause raise. So good. They’re a mixture of Elton John, Billy Joel and Queen. I also love Contact. These guys are coming out with an album soon. Listen: THE THROWS

Holy FuckHoly Fuck‘s Royal Gregory, because you couldn’t be in a much better mood after listening. It’s a great mixture of electronic, experimental and rock music. See, it’s very possible to like electronic music, once it’s done well and it’s not repetitive. Another band that I appreciate a lot, that does the same (bridging the gaps between electronic, experimental and rock) are the Battles.

The CoolLupe Fiasco‘s The Cool is supposedly an antithesis to Miles Davis’s Birth of Cool and if I may the Cool Jazz movement, as it critiques and decontructs the current “cool” state of hip hop (a derivative of bebop jazz) which no longer challenges the status quo, discusses social issues, but again and again chooses to be distracted by the bling and pussy.  Gwendolyn Brooks’s poem We Real Cool also comes to mind when listening to this album:

We Real Cool

THE POOL PLAYERS.
SEVEN AT THE GOLDEN SHOVEL.

We real cool. We
Left School. We

Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We
Die soon.

Something in the Middle

Something In the Middle CoverMy band uploaded a new song on our myspace page. It’s called Something In the Middle.

I can’t remember the details which lead to  Something In the Middle. Maybe it was a day when one of us was so beaten down, that we just spilled all of our guts out.  Because that’s what we do when we’re together, we spill everything out, everything that is trying to kill us. We sing louder, play harder, speak in tongues. We joke that our band practices are really therapy sessions.

Anyway, Something In the Middle is probably one of our most political songs (other than our very visible presence as women playing rock music) on our line-up.

Oh wait, it’s coming back to me now, how it all began. I was talking about the issues surrounding gay rights, and Hanna (bass player and vocalist), or maybe it was Maggie (lead guitarist and vocalist), made a scathing remark which lead to a beat, to a riff, to a refrain…

The recording is homemade, live at our studio. It’s not as polished as our previous recordings, but I’m digging the rawness.  We used this really handy recorder that fits right in your pocket,  Olympus LS10.

You can listen here: Something In the Middle

Something also reminded me of a poem I wrote a couple of weeks ago.

Yeah!

when tomorrow is just tomorrow

when we know that our phenomenal experience

isn’t as immediate as the phenomena expected

where Yeah exists.

I hope that these impressions stay with you

like the scars dealt to me for being open

as long as you live

I hope you live with just that amount of fear

living, breathing, preparing yourself for an attack

as you sit calmly with someone’s else’s blood on your shit: maybe it’s your own

wishing they were gone

as you sit and wait for Yes

to magically appear?

I’m still going to have Metal beating through me tomorrow

I’m still going to text my lover, I heart yous, and still be under-represented

infected with insanity, perversion, illegality

until I’ve been completely molded into something accustomed

I, continues, growing into a form

a persuasion for pettiness

and oh, I thank you God for my nose, eyes, and ears

because I couldn’t have reckoned without them

I couldn’t have survived this Love.

Black Friday

Some where
far beyond dexterity:
a suburban half life for
Fahrenheit’s latitude
a man is being wrestled
down by the state police.
Shoved complacently in the cold
white fluffy snow covers his naked face
as he’s still assured his rights
for cutting the line in front of Walmart.

I wrote this poem a couple of years ago.  I’ve always thought this idea of waking up at 5:00am for a sale to be ridiculous, but then again I hate crowds, I’m not a morning person, and I’m very suspicious about everything, even sales.  Regardless, I never thought that someone would be trampled to death over a sale, especially in 2008.   This is really sad.

On WHFR

I read (out loud) two Sundays ago on WHFR, which was really exciting.  I haven’t read aloud…for years.

It reminded me about how important it is to hear the words you’re speaking, the importance of pronouncing your voice, the completely unstable voice. 

I met some really uplifting artists at WHFR.  It was like an arts commune that ranged from reading excerpts from novels and poetry manuscripts, playing live music, comedy, improv…   It was an apartment full of breath, full of buds ready to flourish in this time of uncertainty, a room filled with togetherness. 

I read 8 of my poems, and played a couple songs off my band’s full length (Love, Lust, Sci-fi & Monsters), and our self-titled EP (Telenovela Star). 

Here’s the list: BackSpaced, The Season, Mania, Architecture of “You”, Soucouyant and Loupgarou, Vampire from Telenovela Star’s Lust, Love, Sci-fi & Monsters album, Elma, My Imaginary Margin, Brown Girl In the Ring, A Plum from Telenovela Star’s self-titled EP.

Listen here:  Reading on WHFR

I’ll Take the Bus

I can accept the breeze 

believe that it is air

air enough for me to breathe

makes me cleaner

so I’m so sure of my belongings too, standing still

XOXOed as a shameful that can’t wake up

running, keep on running XOXOed incapable of a tabla rasa

Sures I’ll make sure everyone close to me is aware of Power.

We won’t depend on a riot or one singular revelation

sharpen, as dull as cutlasses

as bright as misguised bullets, exploding from a Yankee’s Rebel…

I will depend on your selfishness

your eager pretense of wanting to care

but not caring really

I will depend on your indiscretion

as you believe it’s all dependant on what you feel

as what you want, doesn’t, isn’t in my existence

right now or ever

when you think it’s time to stop

when you have your fools to dance around your mirror

and muddy consideration?

yourself reflected fully flush, pandered around your peers

you never consider anything else

Yeah!

when tomorrow is just tomorrow

when we know that our phenomenal experience isn’t as immediate as

the phenomena expected

where Yeah exists.

I hope that these impressions stay with you

like the scars dealt to me for being open

as long as you live

I hope you live with just that amount of fear

living, breathing, preparing yourself for an attack

as you sit calmly with someone’s else’s blood on your shit: maybe it’s your own

wishing they were gone

as you sit and wait for Yes

to magically appear?

I’m still going to have Metal beating through me tomorrow

I’m still going to text my lover, I heart yous, and still be under-represented

infected with insanity, perversion, illegality

until I’ve been completely molded into something accustomed

I, continues, growing into a form

a persuasion for pettiness

and oh, I thank you God for my nose, eyes, and ears

because I couldn’t have reckoned without them

I couldn’t have survived this Love

Live Reading

It’s weird how things happen. It was only a few weeks ago that Paul recommended I read some of my poetry, and then I was asked to read on whfr.org.

The program will be streaming live from 1-7pm this Sunday, November 9. If you miss it, I should have the mp3 soon to post.

Live music and readings. I’m on at 3:30pm. Check it out.

tcboyle_whfr

Funny

When is it okay for a silly old goat to grope your breast?

Is it when the likely hood of him being straight is very slim?

Does it make it completely okay for a gay man to cop a feel

when he isn’t your sweetheart, he’s hardly ever going to be one of those crushes you have

you ever have, over someone you admire enough for a drunkard moment to happen?

No, it’s never going be any of those mornings after having a dream

a very wet dream, when awkwardness is a foreground for possibilities…

When does familiarity become too euphonized as funny, crazy, oh he’s just a silly old man, I know him, I know what he meant? An exercise in excusing how it didn’t meant to make me feel. 

I really hope this rule could pass onto me, when I’m a silly old goat, “that… guy”

parading my charm

I’m Not You

Invisible

is when you can’t

participate with “others”

even when you’re around them

and they’re your friend

your lover

when you can’t participate

in their somewhat familiar

histories: A thread that even excludes you

with their exclusive far right, far left

a middle that clasps at the center, that still feels compelled to dance to your music

but never knows why it has any options

 

Invisible

is when you can’t vote

even when you pay taxes, and you’re not a felon

and you fear going to see a physician

for GYNO visits: even when you have access

you fear talking about your issues

because it makes your situation vulnerable

to inquisitioned as a witch, a terrorist

a witch terrorist

and they tell you to join a group