the spiderman effect

so, let me paint a picture for you. well, a moving picture, actually. but let me just bring this image to mind real quick:
spider-man is crouching down, perched on the edge of a building, high above the city streets. most likely on a cornice, or the rounded tip of something that reaches to a pinnacle, so his feet and hands are all occupying the same 2 sqft of space. he looks around and finds a building across the way to shoot a web at, then does so.

and then comes the brilliant part: he launches himself into mid-air. now, attached to his web, he begins swinging directly toward the side of a skyscraper with 20 times the momentum of a kid on a swingset, cuz his pendulum is 20 times longer. the velocity with which he is approaching a large expanse of metal and glass is extreme and nothing can stop it. however, halfway thru that arc, he has spotted the next edifice on which he can attach his web, and he shoots, letting go of the first web the moment the next one can hold his weight and redirect his path. now he is hurtling at nose-bleed speed toward the next massively large and incredibly durable building against which he could easily dash his brains if he didn't find another pivot from which to swing. and this happens over and over till he's home, or has overtaken the bad guys, or has landed in the alley around the corner from the diner where mary jane works.

it must be a hairy business, this sort of travel. takes quite a bit of knowledge of physics, i'd expect. at least the kind that pool players have--angles of incidence and whatnot-- it's just that in this case it's about changing something's course by pulling in a different direction, not pushing. and that 'thing' happens to be one's own body, of which, i can only assume, one would be terribly fond and not want to mangle or destroy.
it is, however, one of the most exhilarating ways of getting around possible. or at least, i can only imagine. and extrapolate. and that's what i'm going to try to do here. because i would like to posit that many of us have actually felt the exact same feeling that spider-man has when he is swooping thru midtown manhattan on his web strings.
it's the feeling you get when you are in the middle of a performance and you stretch out past your self, and maybe even your abilities, to a place that has only two options: complete success or complete failure. you have made a choice bold enough to realize there is no going back, and if the audience doesn't come with you, you will land with your face smack against the glass of some board room 73 stories up.
these are the greatest moments on stage ever. this is where the tension of live performance comes from. you don't have to crowd surf to feel it, tho that is theoretically this same thing, in physical form.
you can argue that succeeding in this 'spidey launch' is a major triumph for the performer, but i think success is as much due to the behavior of an audience in one of these moments. cuz we've all seen it, that moment when you are sure everything is about to fall apart, and then it doesn't. musicians do it, actors do it, circus performers do a really good job of making you think they are doing it, and comics definitely do it (some with more success than others). and i think it says a lot about a person individually, and an audience as a group, by how they respond. if they see the jump and reach out to the performer, or wait and see if the performer can reach them. i've said before that i'm a generous audience. if i like a performer even a little bit, i'll do what i can to make that jump successful, but i'm only one person in a crowd.
cuz i'd argue that the scariest thing about live performance is the fact that each audience has a different length of arc to the pendulum swing, a different distance between pivotable buildings, and you don't actually know how dangerous your jump into mid-air is, how far you are going to have to reach out before the next pivot site is visible and even then you can't be sure whether the web you throw out will stick to it.
we have prolly all seen a performer fall apart. maybe they land one or two swings after the first spidey launch, but at some point they make the fatal error of misjudging a distance (which happens to be the distance between themselves and the audience) and they slip. there isn't a laugh where there should be, or the reverse. and that first grazing of a building can make the performer lose confidence in their next swing. if that happens, it's the death knell. soon, not one of the webs they shoot will hit their targets and eventually the pendulum will swing them into a brick wall of derision. which is the roughest of all places for a performer to be. there is a way of saving the performance after that first miss, but it requires not showing fear, and throwing things--lines, jokes, melodies, webs--out with confident belief that someone out there in the house wants to help keep you alive. that somewhere there is a friendly building that you can attach to and pivot from. cuz when it comes down to it, not many people would prefer to see a performer bite the dust. that is, until the crowd mentality kicks in, and the survival of the fittest concept of weeding out the weak and sick takes over. that's how people get booed off stages. cuz fear on stage is like blood in the water. and it will cause a feeding frenzy.

this exact thing is why i hate, with a towering passion, when anyone says "i'm sorry" on stage. no matter what it's about, it's like signing your death warrant. even if it's cuz you broke a string and have to take 5 long minutes to change it mid-set, it's not worth it. don't say it. just do not say "i'm sorry". ever.
cuz i wasn't sorry i was watching you on stage until you thought to apologize for being there. my time wasn't being wasted till you said it was. and if you are going to betray yourself like that, what's to stop me from betraying you too? it's basically shooting a web out into the ether without the thought of trying to attach it to something. and it kills a performance on contact. or, on the lack of contact.

there are, however, some performers that have no concept of apology in them. ones that have almost completely fooled themselves into believing that a spidey launch has no chance of failure. that the only way to interact with an audience is to throw themselves as high and far as humanly possible, knowing that there is no other way even though there is no certainty of a place to land on the other side. some people make their entire careers out of jumping into the thinnest of air and either being given support by the audience who will follow them anywhere, or by falling, crushingly, into glass or concrete.

now, this post was originally inspired by a conversation with my friend ed who is working on a piece that describes r. kelly as having this sort of career, even when he turns something like the slow and sexy r&b song 'feeling on your booty'(which normally goes something like this) into an opera. like so. (please, god, click on the second link. it is so worth it.) he knows he has the audience eating out of his hand, and then he just goes off on the most random trajectory possible, and they are all right there with him, totally led by the nose wherever he wants. it's a brilliant moment of stage performance. it's a spidey launch of epic proportions. and i gotta say, it makes me kinda love him.

cuz the true triumph for a performer in a spidey launch situation is knowing how to feel for that sweet spot when the audience is most receptive to your reaching out and are ready to open up the opportunity for you to jump. sure you might not know what it will look like to swing along their rooftops, but you can judge the right time to start the pendulum swinging. and, as in the case of r. kelly above, you can give them a heads up. in fact, he even asked permission first, smart man.
and yeah, since i've practically already said it (must be r. kelly's influence), this process is kinda like having sex with your audience, so you best be doing whatever you can to make them feel good and be paying attention to when they are ready. and for god's sake, don't you dare say you are sorry in the middle of it.

re:stacks and longing fatigue

this song is one of the most beautiful and haunting songs ever recorded. it's the kind of song that makes you ache with longing from the first pure, spare chords all the way thru to the last, almost purely silent, 7 seconds. every time i hear it, the music flows in my ears and hollows out the cavity inside my chest, making its echoing notes rebound on my ribs, pushing all the air out of my lungs, causing my throat to feel the keening chorus, as if i had breath to voice it along with his. embedded deep in its music and lyrics is the sound of a man who has been crying and/or drinking so long he has no tears and almost no voice left to express his sorrow. it reproduces with razor-sharp accuracy, the sound of your heart ripping open and dripping your life-blood onto your already tear-soaked shoes. or mine. let's stick with mine, cuz i dunno what your heart sounds like.
needless to say, it's a killer, and for at least a month one winter, i listened to it nonstop. that winter was hard. it was dark and wet and cold in seattle, i was ignoring my need to write (which is usually a huge solace in winter), i was drinking too much and neglecting my housemates and cat, and i was desperately in love with someone who didn't care very much for me, wasn't particularly good to me, but was too nice to break up with me. therefore, a surfeit of longing as my musical diet made perfect sense. but after about a month, it became unbearable. not my way of life (tho it should have), but the music tapping into the emotions my life was causing in me. this song was creating 'longing fatigue' in me. it was exhausting my capacity to feel a yearning for anything anymore. it made me drink more, continue to ignore the good things in my life, and seek solace with a person who could not give me any. and this 'longing fatigue' made me burn out on the song. i stopped listening to it. i forgot it existed. i then packed up or threw/gave away everything i owned, fostered out my kitty and left town to travel.
which was great for a long time. at the beginning i was learning to not want anything. then, when i finally stopped wanting someone i couldn't have, i found i needed connection with everyone else. so i set out to spend all of my time with all of the people i missed all around the country. which was amazing, cuz connection is the opposite of longing. at least for me. and that worked for quite a while. i could create community wherever i was with whoever i was visiting, i could play house in so many different places, trying to make each one feel a little more like home (hopefully for my hosts as well as myself), i could even foster connections between friends that spanned across the country. i had amazing conversations the stretched around the nation with different folks contributing to each stage of my understanding. there were times i was able to write, and many many things to write about.
but there were times i couldn't write. times i riffed on the same subject over and over, even with the same friends. times when there was nothing i wouldn't give to not be a guest somewhere (it's a difficult job, and i wasn't always good at it). i'd drunk my fill of community. i didn't think it could happen to me. the extroverted middle child who was socialized by two (three, including my grandma) of the most hospitable, sociable, community fostering and other-person-oriented people i've known.
so then, at some point, i finally realized that for some time i had been longing for stillness, solitude, and space of my own to sit and listen to what i had to say to myself. cuz tho it's true that identity is partially based on other people, i have a tendency to spend to little time and energy on checking in with myself. i spend it all on talking to other people about themselves and every once in a while about myself. it's like when you and your partner have something you need to talk about in private, but you never make the time to do it, and then one of you brings it up as a joke in front of other people and soon you are in the middle of something that has no business happening in someone else's living room. i do that to myself. and i do it to my writing, almost nonstop. and talking about writing is the death of getting anything actually down on paper, at least for me.
but so now it's been 6+ months of feeling like i want a place of my own to spend some time with my self and my art and i still don't see it happening till august. i keep thinking i need to re-read 'a room of one's own' and then realizing that i don't. i know the feeling all to well and would prolly throw the book across the room were i to try to let ms. woolf tell it to me.
but i can't quite get myself to care right now. i wanna buy a house but am frustrated with credit issues and timing and the market, i need to find an apartment but can't imagine dealing with even one more new person to live with, i contemplate moving to a shack in montana and then a house in iowa and then a farm in east tennessee, feeling like they are all the same, i plan extended visits to friends and then wonder if i can stand being in someone else's house for even another couple weeks.
i started a short story on my new typewriter yesterday, and on the first page i realized it was hearkening back to a roald dahl short story i love. so i got up from the table and went to search for it in my boxes of books in the basement. i went thru all 4 of them without finding it, and in the process realized my 'golden compass' is missing as well. i almost threw a tantrum right there. i admit it. i'm lost. and i can't live this way. i've been stuffing my writer into boxes and bags and free moments on the train and coffee shop afternoons and nights on someone else's couch and it's becoming a problem. i've been longing for, and keeping from myself, the possibility of ever actually giving myself the time and space to write the stories swirling around in me. and i'm at the place where i'm tempted to just assume i never will and go ahead burn all my books and papers, stuff some clothes in my pack, hop a freight train and sleep rough in a field somewhere west of here, hoping to find work on a farm to keep my body busy and my mind empty.
but it wouldn't work. and i have to learn from the last time i was a victim of 'longing fatigue'. either coincidentally or because he is the most wonderful sweetheart in the world, my friend jack posted 're: stacks' on my facebook page yesterday. and today it hit me what i have to do. i have to listen to this song only once a day, but every day, to keep it's edge sharp on my throat, and i need to sink my teeth into the vision of a room with bookshelves and a desk by a window where my typewriter and netbook can sit--clench my jaw and hold on tight--and put this one need in front of anyone else's, so i can finally stop pretending that i'm wanting something i can't have. i've been running away from being a writer for years. i'm so good at making up excuses, the list and the reasons behind each could fill my first book. that black crow dangling my keys needs to fly away leave me alone to get shit done.
i'm done with this wanting. it's time to start making it happen.

"this is not the sound of a new man, or a crispy realization, it's the sound of the unlocking and the lift away, your love will be safe with me."

30 years ago today...

dear john,
you were my first artistic crush. I fell in love with you when I was 13 years old--still a child—not yet musically savvy. And then you schooled me in rock and roll, love, life and revolution. Soon I knew every note of every song of every beatles album. I had posters of you (like this one->) and your fab friends all over my bedroom. I thought of you as a friend of mine, I watched all your movies, I read books by and about you. I studied your harmonies and lyrics, I imagined what it would be like to be you, tried to crawl inside your head. It was love like it can only manifest for a 13 year old—as idolization. Obsession. You and the boys were all I listened to, all I thought about. I had about 3 beatles t-shirts in heavy rotation all thru high school, my favorite being the rainbow tie-dyed one. (yep.) note: this was during the time when grunge had taken over the radio. I didnt even notice. When my friend sang pearl jam's 'nothing man' I sneered and said they stole the idea from 'nowhere man'. The sentence 'kurt cobain shot himself' actually evoked a 'who?' from me. I had no patience for a rockstar who took his own life, believing your assassination to be the most tragic thing that could ever happen.

It was tragic. You, of all rock royalty, were the one who was supposed to be around forever. No burning out or fading away for you. I think about the state of the world right now and wonder if we would be as war-focused as we are if you had lived. I imagine your tireless 70 years young self campaigning for peace, love and understanding even now. I see you and yoko having tea with the obamas, talking about afghanistan. I love that you loved the usa so much and hope (against hope) that the country has lived up your standards. We have needed you these past 30 years, friend. Rock and roll activists could have used your help and guidance, and your connection to the old guard. I think you would have been a big fan of the riot grrrl scene. I bet if you and kurt had sat down for coffee you would have had a lot of things to talk about (heroin being the least of them).

I was in nyc this september, a couple weeks before your birthday, and saw the front steps of the dakota and strawberry fields for the first time. I had a poster of the imagine mosaic on the ceiling above my bed for years as a teenager and it was a little surreal to see the spot in person. It was a sunny day and there were people around and I felt silly taking a picture. My tourguide was in a bit of a hurry so we didnt stay long, but it was peaceful there and I could imagine going in the summer to sit and write all afternoon. I became smitten with nyc during that visit in the fall, I guess thats what happened to you too, about 40 years ago. I can see how the energy of that city would totally jive with yours, with your humor and candor and charm (oh, you libra, you). nyc makes you want to get things done and gives you the belief that they can be cuz there are so many people out there trying to make shit happen. Its a city of hustlers (in the best sense) and you were always one of those.

Last night I sang beatles songs at karaoke. I started the evening with oh darling (I know its pauls but still) and ended it with twist and shout, shredding my voice just like you did. Everyone was up and dancing and singing backup on your song. It made me really happy. I felt like you for just a second--something ive wanted since I was 13. It was pretty marvelous.

music = heart time travel

im sitting in a coffee shop in new hampshire, and a song starts playing by willy porter, a favorite of an ex-lover of mine, who, six years ago, made me a mix cd of willy's stuff by way of introduction to his music and my lover's heart and mind at the time. i was in love with this person, and they were from new hampshire, a place i'd never been in 2004, so my feelings back then about both the music and the place i am experiencing right now were very fond, bordering on overly fond. now, here i am, six years and thousands of miles later, having totally forgotten willy porter and his--and my lover's--affect on me, being riveted by this music unheard for years, my heart breaking open for my love at 25, realizing i'm exactly where my ex would want to be--new hampshire is their home--a place as foreign to me as any other area of new england. but for right now, this moment, its exactly where i should be, remembering i have a past here and now where music, place, and love transcend time enough to make me reach out to someone i haven't had a conversation with in years. someone in whose eyes i used to see my future. someone who is part of my past, but also a part of my heart, which, with its constant rhythm, ever keeps me and those i love in the present.

so i text my ex to say it:

i miss you, k.i.p.

first blog entry of the rest of your life

Never fails, put me in a moving vehicle and gimme music to listen to on headphones, and my mind starts to come alive. I've felt scattered and mute all summer. I dunno what that's about. But now it's fall and it's time to buckle down and T.C.B.

This is the time of year that i set out curricula for myself, i make up "classes" out of my artistic goals, give myself assignments to complete. I'm most prolific in the fall. Thinking back, most of my sizable works of fiction or research projects were attacked with vigor starting in the fall. Including that really depressing one set to sigur ros and elliot smith from 2003 that got lost when my laptop crashed...

I wonder if it's because all my favorite music is very fall in color and tone. Last year, right after moving into H is for House, I found the Fleet Foxes and started a story on my typewriter that i wish i could revisit right now...it was so clear and bright. Like September in Seattle--golden and sweet.

I know what it is, this is something i learned in China. When you are stationary and have no barrier between yourself and what is happening around you, you just have to live life where you are and figure out how to be in it and survive. When you can be in motion, and/or have something like headphones or a camera lens between yourself and what you are witnessing, everything is just removed enough to take a good look at. You can put a frame around your life and reflect on it--give it context and meaning. I haven't been taking myself out of my life enough to know what's happening with it. I haven't been able to tell stories about it because I haven't been looking at it as something with beginnings and endings, with a narrative arch. I have actually been meditating to try to shut off my narrator. Which is also helpful, but there is a time and a place for everything.

Here and Now is a great beginning.

Here is sitting next to Luka on a bus to Minneapolis.
Now is halfway through the Fleet foxes self-titled album at 9:30am on a saturday morning.

Now is punctuated by tambourine and a half-asleep bum, the vibration and subtle pull of a motorized vehicle traveling at 60mph, the taste of tortilla chips (breakfast) still in my mouth.

Here includes Luka's half open mouth and hands wrapped around an ipod, the sun breaking through clouds onto constantly retreating cornfields and misty woods, seated folks in their own worlds all around, the lady across the aisle on her laptop, one sparkly earring dangling in my view.

I'm grateful for all of it. For the love and sadness in my parents' eyes as they said goodbye once more at the bus station, for the uncertainty of what the winter holds for me, for the single oak tree in the middle of that cornfield out the window...

"oh, don't get careless, I'm sure it'll be fine, i love you, i love you, oh brother of mine."

For the Fleet Foxes and Dee Jordan, our bus driver, carrying me into my future.

like a leaf clings to a tree...

walking home this morning in the seattle version of snowfall, with cat power singing 'wild is the wind' in my cold-red ears...

"...we are creatures of the wind..."
here 'snowing' is defined differently. just like how the rain is only slightly more insistent than misting, snow can be so small you cant see it falling and the gradual accumulation of such super-fine flakes can take forever to be perceptible.
the prolonged process of covering over the flora happens a fraction of a millimeter at a time, and makes even the lush green landscape here look blighted by the cruelness of winter. the fineness of the brush painting everything white makes for very detailed outlining of every blade of grass. when there is less than half an inch of snow it makes the capturing of footprints--animals and people--very precise. the dark concrete in bird shapes, squirrel hops, shows stark against the white...

"...you touch me, i hear the sound of mandolins..."
this visual precision brings me aural focus and i know no better accompaniment exists. Miz Power covers like the snow. the piano peeks brightly out of velvet silence and her reluctant voice shadows the delayed gratification in the weather. the clinging of her voice, the sparse piano notes, the trepidation of advancing the rhythm, they mirror my view. i become obsessed with how she lingers over syllables, leaving empty space, singing so close to the mic you hear the texture of every letter in the words she touches with her mouth. the scratch in her vocals feels just like the bare branches with each and every finger kissed frosty, the pedal sustain touches like the insistent cold creeping past your collar and down the back of your neck--elongated shivers that leave your lower back aching--the high notes come sharp as flakes stinging your bare cheek.

"...with your kiss my life begins..."
holding all the beauty in your senses makes you hold your breath in the silences, you try to keep your mind from running ahead to fill in the gaps cuz then you'd have to back up to get in step. you believe time has slowed down just enough for you to catch each individual moment and marvel at its passing...you feel as tho the world is being caressed like a lover savoring the sensation of every inch of their beloved's skin, fingertips deliberately and ever so gently stroking every curve and angle, defining the edges, outlining the shape of things. its a leisurely smothering, the most beautiful agony of slowness...

"...let me fly away with you..."
...and true to the song ending that leaves you begging for more just when you were anticipating a cathartic payoff, before we can get to actual 'snow cover' (not just a 'dusting') the temperature rises just enough to let it subtly melt away, as a dying chord lazily falls past hearing...

Heck / HER, i dont even know her!

listen to this

hollow earth radio is my life now (just got on the board) and the weekend at Heck fest was a revelation. super-freaking-awesome. listen. especially to the interviews, they were so great.

the line-up for today, Part One: Wednesday July 30th 2-7pm PST

2:00 Real Live Shipwreck Survival Story told in honor of "Shipwreck Day" in Anacortes during Heck Fest.
2:10 LAKE at the Department of Safety and interview with Ashley of LAKE, 60 second interview with Blow & Tender Forever
3:15 Rich Jenson Intensive
4:10 THE ICE CREAM LADY INTERVIEW!
4:12 Little Wings
4:40 MORE ICE CREAM LADY INTERVIEWING!
4:45 The Moore Brothers and Owl and the Pussycat
5:15 Random Interviews: World History, American Field Recordings, etc.
5:25 Dennis Driscoll on Guemes Island and Interview afterwards
6:25 Mt. Eerie

sooo good!

GoBama!

artists for obama posters!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ak_jJUIOEZc

(the music is seths band, velvetron. woot!)

OH. MY. GOD.

i dont know how to process this.

this is so freaking amazing, guys.

everett true is my f*cking idol. i so wish i could be him.
if you dont know who he is, study up or dont talk to me. his nirvana biography changed my life. no joke.

the way he talks about music makes me wanna scream (in that really high on beauty and passion and life sort of way--listen to thom yorke or bjork or kurt cobain to hear examples)

and look at this

this is him talking about clyde. your heart breaks. (the other thing in my life that makes me want to scream--almost always in a good way ;)

cuz its true. your heart breaks breaks my heart. continually. listen. (then buy) you will see.

and everett sees it and hears it right. (sorry, clyde, if the cat metaphor is too much for you, it feels right on the nose to me...)

and the way i read it, he is being real. he can be totally an asshole, but there is always that realness behind it that is his sincere love of music and musicians and his respect for the art and his commitment to using everything he has to help it along. he breaks my heart too, i guess.

he (they) break(s) it open in ways that kc does with his voice. the way that makes an outpouring happen.

(hence this blog)

and hopefully more words and music from me really soon...

reel-to-real: confessions

1) i’m such a slacker. i still haven’t opened the new boxes of reels.

i dunno how many of you have seen the huge bookcase full of reels at hollow earth, but i know i’ve tried to describe its dimensions before. that’s the volume i’ve been working with. now imagine the size of an apple box. you know, the ones they ship all those wonderful washington state apples in, that can safely stow a bushel nestled in those purple paperboard trays. now, think of eight of those boxes, stacked 4 high, standing in my bedroom between my desk and my drumkit. guess what they are full of? yep. we have now doubled the volume of reels owned by hollow earth radio. mike, our benefactor, found that he still had quite a few more reels lying around his garage after the first shipment he made, and called up a couple weeks ago, asking us to take them off his hands. “better to you than a landfill.” i think he has spent a good amount of time and energy in his life trying to accumulate a library of these things, mostly for the found sound aspect. he seems like a nice guy, brusque, but nice. he drove by my house during one of our sunday crafternoons and dropped the boxes off. only stayed long enough to unload and tell me that he might find more as he keeps cleaning out his garage, so to not be surprised if we get another phone call from him. i must have looked a bit shell shocked at the prospect of more, cuz he said it prolly wouldn’t be this much again…

thats a shit-ton of reels sitting there, staring at me. i keep giving the stack sidelong glances as i type, trying to decide the best way to go about tackling this new challenge. i had just finished categorizing all of the tapes at hollow earth. there, they are all in piles and/or on shelves separated by subject matter and importance. and there was space for them. mostly. here, i had to move my guitar stands to make room and i may have to pack up the drums cuz our basement is already full of our former housemates’ furniture and there isnt enough floorspace to organize these f*ckers. and i don’t wanna put them on my bed, which is my usual substrate for whatever project im working on, cuz they are kinda moldy smelling–they sat in a garage in the PNW for years on end, who wouldnt be?


second shipment

2) i’m losing steam. this project is too freaking big for one person.

i’m happy to put in the time organizing the tapes and learning about reel-to-reel machines and recording processes and listening to some of the amazing found sound i’ve run across, i’m not saying i’m not. i’m saying that if each tape is up to 90 minutes long, and we are wanting to archive them fully, even if only one fourth of all the hundreds of reels we have are worth saving, thats still hours and hours of transfer time. and i love amber and garrett, but they live an hour away from me (by bus and foot) and even if i give an entire afternoon to them a week i still have only transfered maybe two reels if it all goes smoothly, which it never does. and i know they think i’m cool and all, but i doubt they want me to move in and haunt the studio day and night trying to clock the hours it’ll take to transfer all these crazy little jewels we have. these random moments of other people’s pasts, these aural windows into living rooms and concert halls and churches forty years ago.

this is not me complaining, or making excuses, i promise. this is me asking anyone who thinks this project sounds at all interesting to let me show them how it works so they can come by the studio and hang out while transferring tape. especially you djs who have 3 hour shifts. if you could set up a reel when you first got there, and could keep an eye out for when the tape runs out, you could get at least one reel done a shift and even that would be sooooo awesome.

so, for reals, yo. if you are a listener who wants to become a volunteer on this project, or you are a dj who wants a crash course in r2r to digital transfer, email hollowearthradio@gmail.com and put ‘for reel’ in the subject heading. amber and garrett will make sure i get your info so we can set up a time to teach you in the ways of quarter-inch tape.
come have a listen. there is a ton of interesting stuff to hear. then transfer the random thing you find and be proud when you hear it later on garrett’s show.

these are my ashes

okay, so today is ash wednesday. that means its the first day of lent. which means there are 40 days before easter. and supposedly this is a time of penance and preparation for the biggest celebration on the christian calendar. (i actually think only catholics, and maybe episcopalians care about lent. must be the guilt fetish...)

earlier today i emailed saunia (my friend who is getting her masters in theology, no less) that i hoped she had a good lent. she says, "are you supposed to have a good lent?
my response is, why the hell not? last year i ate chocolate everyday of lent, partially because we dumpstered a 55lb boulder of it the night of ash wednesday and we had a shit-ton to go thru, but also, it was a conscious decision to do something good for myself during lent instead of give something up (which is the traditional move). in fact, my freshman year of college i went vegan for lent and afterwards kept vegetarian for the next 5 years, with 6 week stints of veganism every lent. and thats how that dietary discipline started in me...
when i was a kid i gave up candy, or watching tv, or something else that was a major bit of discipline for an 7, 8, 9, 14 year old. but at some point i started actively doing something instead of not doing something. like, going to a soup kitchen, or helping out around the house...but still some sort of discipline was involved. and inevitably, when you failed, there was plenty of guilt involved...
this was the old-school way. i mean, i was taught that the point of lent was to be penitent and sorrowful to prepare for christs death and rebirth. he spent 40 days fasting in the desert, the least we can do is not eat meat on fridays... i dunno. in some ways it makes sense.
but sometime after college i decided that since lent is a time to remember, to prepare for the big event that caused a bunch of jews to start a whole new religion based on the teachings of this one slightly crazy, rabble-rousing revolutionary that was so out there his main battle plan was simply to love people, then why not have the whole preparatory time leading up to easter be a slow process of celebrating instead of mourning?
hence the chocolate to combat the greige sinking in. [greige(n): the moniker for the weather in the pacific northwest winter that slowly creeps into your bones and makes you want to kill yourself] i mean, lets be real here, its seattle in february. its dreary and gross. this weather demands that you have a purpose or you are defeated.
so this year, im searching for purpose. i think that has to be my lenten activity. i cant handle fasting and self-flagellating when its already close to impossible to get out of bed.
good old coffee and whiskey...that was my mayan new years resolution (at the start of fall/winter) to fight the greige with coffee in the morning and whiskey in the evening. it has done me well so far, but now i need something that will stick to my ribs. now i need a plan of action.
lent is a good time for this. this hunting for purpose.
it hit me like a cast iron pan across the kisser last week that i cant for the life of me decide on a larger purpose for myself. that i refuse to choose something and go at it with all my strength, mostly cuz im so freaking scared, in equal measure, of both failure and success. but im running out of time. this is my last year in my 20s, there isnt time to screw around anymore. my lifes work cant wait much longer for me to finally pick it up, heft its weight, and start figuring out how to carry it forward. or maybe i just cant handle walking along with my hands in my pockets anymore.
i like the idea of doing this work during lent. i like the idea of this being a time to prepare for something so miraculous as to change peoples whole worlds... i dunno. i want it to mean something that ive survived this far. and that am finally (hopefully) headed somewhere.

ive got embryos of ideas of where that might be, but its now a time of gestation. a time of growing in a challenging-me-to-figure-out-what-i-believe-in-and-am-willing-
to-put-my-energy-towards-in-a-real-life-encompassing-way way. i will show you these ideas when they are less fetal. prolly by easter.

reel-to-real pt. 1

just outside the door to the control room at hollow earth radio, there is this 5' tall, bookshelf full of 5"x5" reel-to-reel boxes (1800ft of tape sized). this bookshelf has maybe six shelves and is about 3' across. looking at this shelf, its a bit daunting to calculate how many hours of listening are sitting there. especially when you realize those shelves are 10" deep. yep, its actually twice as much tape as you can see at once. my (happily chosen) job at the station is to organize, catalog, and digitally archive this tape. or whatever part of it seems of interest. home recordings, live concerts, radio programs, stuff thats not recorded in some other format. those reels that have four of herb alpert's, or nancy sinatra's or bob dylan's albums recorded on them are not that valuable to those of us who are intrigued by original local sound recordings. those boxes marked 'standard school broadcast, 1968' or 'christmas concert 1970,' or 'ron and leslie's wedding' or 'nature lectures on the olympic national forest,' or 'JFK speech--cuban missile crisis' or (im not kidding) 'lt. col. glenn, astronaut, between 4am and 5am on january 27th 1962,' those are the ones that make me want to strap on a good pair of headphones and attach myself, and the reels, to one of the 4 dinosaur reel-to-reel machines strewn about the studio and stay curled up with eyes closed for hours. time traveling. feeling the intervening years impose their crackle and hiss on these transmissions from a time before i was born. a time when everyone's handwriting on the labels was the palmer method--that old-school script with the flowy capital letters--always impeccable, like grandma's. when this kind of magnetic tape was made by companies like scotch, irish, and shamrock. when track listings might have been mimeographed or typewritten and the clear tape that affixed them to the box hadn't yet yellowed and flaked. im excited to bring you along for the ride. this process of discovery fills me with awe, and i hope soon to bring you some jaw-dropping aural experiences, but before that, i want you to taste the pleasure of rummaging thru these forgotten recordings, seeing for yourself what its like to get your hands dusty from these crazy bits of history, these dead ends of technology, these throw-backs to a time before digital media. come with me, this stuff is too good not to share.

circles back around

so, 3 years ago i had this moment in time where everything in my life kinda collapsed and it was heralded by three really upsetting/annoying episodes of something completely failing on me: #1 my GI tract--i got salmonella poisoning and was sick and dehydrated for 5 days. #2 my computer--it completely crashed and i couldnt restore it without losing everything on it. #3 my knee--it randomly slipped out of joint for 2 days and then miraculously went back into place of its own accord one night and i woke up mobile again.
now, in the past 2 weeks i have #1--had a nasty case of the flu that laid my out for 3 days straight. #2--had my computer completely collapse on me and had to save the files and reload my operating system and download all my applications again (im still scared to try to put all my music from my ipod back on my itunes, but soon...) and now, (drumroll please...) #3. yep. you guessed it. dancing at sunset house on friday, my knee gave out, in the same way it did 3 years ago. i dont understand, but its excruciating. its like a tendon slid underneath my kneecap and is resting on a nerve. and it gets more painful the more i unbend my knee. shitty. and makes me immobile. crap.
so, ive been hopping around my house all weekend, and my housemates have been angels, and i am bored out of my gourd and ingesting stupid amounts of painkillers.
so this is what i have run across on the interweb to distract me. my two new favorite music videos:




holla if you wanna distract me with something.

creepy music/creepy art boxes

Subject: cuz its free

Sorry I never got back to you last night. Hope you enjoyed
the flicker bout Kurt. 
What do you think of the new Radiohead? and don't tell me
you haven't heard it!

Brother
**************************
subject: re: cuz its free

> Sorry I never got back to you last night. Hope you
> enjoyed the flicker bout Kurt. 

i did. it was great. he didnt say anything i didnt already
know, but it was beautiful and so great to hear his own
voice saying it. images of aberdeen and olympia and
seattle, people places and things. Didnt see his face till
the last 30 seconds. none of his music. all bands that he
liked was influenced by or got to introduce to the world.
it was really awesome.

> What do you think of the new Radiohead? and don't
> tell me you haven't heard it!

we played it yesterday during our 'crafternoon' which was
really fun, but it was my first listen and it was
background music for interaction. but now that i have it
in my head a bit i will give it a good listen and tell you
what i think...

speaking of that--the idea that it takes a bit for your
brain to register and order new sound so you can under-
stand it--we listened to this most amazing radio program
on the radiolab website that blew my mind 7 times in the
hearing. its about music and the brain. and its fucking
fascinating. for real. listen by yourself or in a room
that you can make noises while listening cuz itll cause
them. it talks about perfect pitch and tonal languages,
it talks about sound as touch and how it works in the
brain, it talks about dissonance and how we assimilate
it, it talks about everything. its amazing. PLEASE
listen to it. if only for the editing genius of it. 

so, you listen to radiolab, ill listen to radiohead and we
will get back to each other.

love
sis
**************************

subject: four limbs simultaneously



this is me playing drums.
      1     2     3     4     1
hi    x  x  x  x  x  x  x oXo x 
snare       x           x
bass  x           x  x        x

(where oXo is hit with hi hat open.)

check out the double hit on the bass drum. 

im very proud of this beat and the fact that i can do
all four limbs at once after just a couple hours practice
today. 

okay. ill stop bugging you with my drum-mania now.

Love
sis

***********************

subject: re: four limbs simultaneously

Rockin!  Sounds great! 
I'm going to be teaching official drum lessons to Terisa
(remember her?) starting on Sunday. 
If I come across any amazing teaching techniques, I'll be
sure to send them your way. Looks like you're on the right
track though!

DRUMMMMMZZ!

*************************

subject: re: four limbs simultaneously

> Rockin!  Sounds great! 

thanks for being enthusiastic. you are the best.

> I'm going to be teaching official drum lessons to
> Terisa (remember her?) starting on Sunday. 

the one with the stellarly beautiful and magical child?
that sounds fun.
you know, you could prolly make a good amount of money
giving drum lessons, if you wanted to...

> If I come across any amazing teaching techniques,
> I'll be sure to send them your way. Looks 
> like you're on the right track though!

yessssssss....
it just feels really good/right to be playing them. when
you get into the rhythm and arent thinking about it and
it flows, it feels good. like when i finally figure out
a sam beam picking pattern and can do it in real time. 





speaking of him, have you heard the new iron and wine?
im totally disappointed. :(  too many effects on the
vocals and too many vocal tracks layered on top of each
other. and the energy feels too light and not substantial
enough. i cant sink my teeth into most of the tracks.
there isnt breathing room. (sort of literally, you know
how he uses his breath as a percussive instrument...)

oh, and i gave Radiohead a good listen or two yesterday,
and i have to say it feels a bit derivative. nothing that
feels super new and interesting. a lot of the same sounds
and energy of kid a and eraser, nothing that blew my socks
off. And thats what they used to do to me. in fact, there
are songs on the bends and ok computer that still make me
want to scream and throw myself around. and i havent found
any of that on the new album, which is kinda sad. 

> DRUMMMMMZZ!

you said it! they make me so excited! (and sore...my
shoulders are gonna be so buff soon...heh)

did i tell you im gonna try to start a band with my
housemates? ill let you know how it turns out...

anyway, have a good day, pal.

love
champ

*************************

subject: re: four limbs simultaneously

Wow. I think you've hit the nail on the head with both
those records (although I haven't really heard the I and W
one too much yet). You should write for pitchfork or
something. Do yourself a favor and go back to track 3,
"Nude".  

It's a song that's been kicking around for almost 10 years
and they finally recorded it. It's one of the most
beautiful I think they've ever written. Up there with
"how to disappear completely" or "no surprises" methinks.
You know, back when they wrote songs with real chord
changes and not just Thom stream of consciousing over
some vamp. 

gotta go. 

keep it up. bang bang!

Seth
*************************

subject: re: four limbs simultaneously

> Wow. I think you've hit the nail on the head with
> both those records (although I haven't really 
> heard the I and W one too much yet). You should
> write for pitchfork or something. Do yourself a 

thats really funny to think about. the not musician of
the family...i guess my music sensibilities have gotten
a lot sharper and i can hear things in a lot
more sophisticated way nowadays. (have you listened to
that radiolab thing yet?)

> favor and go back to track 3, "Nude". It's a song
> that's been kicking around for almost 10 years 
> and they finally recorded it. It' one of the most
> beautiful I think they've ever written. Up there 
> with "how to disappear completely" or "no surprises"
> methinks. You know, back when they 
> wrote songs with real chord changes and not just
> Thom streamn of consciousing over some vamp. 

yeah, that one was the breath of fresh air on the album.
i totally agree. and that next track feels very amnesiac
and has some good energy, too... 
(you sound like a good critic too, we should write joint
articles that are just us talking to each other about
music. or we should record the conversations and
put them up on justin's website...or maybe thats just
for local underground stuff...) and whats up with them
not writing real songs? It kinda drives me crazy. their
songs used to go places. now they just hang out somewhere.
its a cool somewhere, but its not as interesting to be
taken to a place to stand still as it is to be taken on a
journey. ah well.

im going on a 'date' to the SAM today. my first time going
there. cant wait to see the cornell boxes.

later, skater
(pow, crash!)
--raych
*********************

subject: re: four limbs simultaneously

> thats really funny to think about. the not musician of
> the family...

not anymore...

> (have you listened to
> that radiolab thing yet?)

you bet your eardrums! wow! that's good radio. 

> yeah, that one was the breath of fresh air on the
> album. i totally agree. and that next track feels very
> amnesiac and has some good energy, to'o... 
> (you sound like a good critic too, we should write
> joint articles that are just us talking to each other
> about music. or we should record the conversations and
> put them up on  justin's website...or maybe thats just
> for local underground stuff...)

yeah. I had an idea to do that in a car with kent or brian.
it would be really fun but i don't know if anyone would
want to listen to it. but on the other hand, look at
"sound opinions"

> and whats up with them not writing real songs? it
> kinda drives me crazy. their songs used to go places.
> now they just hang out somewhere. its a cool
> somewhere, but its not as interesting to be taken to a
> place to stand still as it is to be taken on a
> journey. ah well.

couldn't agree more. they could never write another song
like paranoid android. they're just not young and
ambitious enough anymore. 

> im going on a 'date' to the SAM today. my first time
> going there. cant wait to see the cornell boxes.

ooooh! a date! huh?
some grad students at the school are showing some of
cornell's films today. I'll let you know what they're like. 

here's to creepy music and creepy art boxes!!

seth
**********************