the only people for me are the mad ones

Amidst the snow and sadness of the winter, I've been bunking down in the ivory tower (a.k.a. Stauffer Library) with my homeys (see photo) catching up with my first love, the Beats. Though they've become the cliched territory of stoner-buddhas and supposedly high-minded frat boys, I've always felt pretty sincere in my affections for Jack and the boys. I read Dharma Bums for the first time when I was 16, and it felt like waking up--like I'd been asleep for my whole life. In honour of these two crazy kids, long hours at the library for no reason, over-the-counter uppers and late nights (or early mornings) singing along with Dylan, a list.

Top Ten Things To Do in a Kerouac Novel/Poem/Letter

10. Get all confused and hung up.

9. Abstractly refer to Buddhism, God and America. Interchangeably, if possible.

8. Take bennys.

7. Worry about your mother. Refer to your mother, her cat, and your belongings as “the ménage.”

6. Get a ride with/pick up some hitchhiking Okies.

5. “Ball” with girls. Descriptions of said girls should be based on their occupations and hair colour. Note: if in spiritual phase, refer to sex as “yabyum.”

4. Reminisce about your golden youth in a small and snowy New England town.

3. Go and never stop going till you get there. You don’t know where you’re going, but you gotta go.

2. Drink a lot, worry about how much you’re drinking, swear to stop drinking, repeat.

1. Dig/be dug by someone.

Haven't changed, haven't much to say

Since I started slingin' dirty pints at the local I can't get Paddy's Day off the brain, and with half my heart in Dublin (the pretty lady pictured at right), it's Irish time. Video-stylez.


Jape - Floating



PS. I want to marry this song.

The Frames - Lay Me Down



Note: I love that the scroll on this video mentions the Olympia, former work place of the loveliest Dubliner.

Redneck Manifesto - We Still Got It



NB: They still got it. This video makes me think of: a) high school, and b) the opening credits for Almost Famous.

And because this list would be incomplete without them (or rather, him?)...

Thin Lizzy - The Boys Are Back in Town



So...I sort of want to borrow Brian Robertson's high-waisted denims. Also, that in-screen video showing the whole stage means that The Future is here.



But seriously, the best place that I know of to find St Patty's music is Hi-Fi Popcorn, which is straight outta Dublin. Check it.

Hey friends and lovers,
Whether you're a love-lover or love-hater today, Minnesota Public Radio has you covered. They've created two hours-long sets of Valentine's Day songs. The "Greatest Love Songs" show is five hours of The Flaming Lips, Iron and Wine, Billy Bragg and
Nina Simone to get you in the mood, while the three-hour long "Greatest Break Up Songs" has Patsy Cline, Jeff Buckley, Sebadoh and The Seeds singing about how they've lost that loving feeling. Click here to listen.

things that everyone should watch.

Ike and Tina performing "Proud Mary" live (1974-ish?)


Beyonce at the Kennedy Centre Honors -- honoring Miss Tina. (2005)



Tina and Beyonce last night on the Grammy's. Tina's 68 years-old.




LOVE it.

Hating even our shoes and our hats

Once upon a time, I had an Anne Sexton poem posted in these pages. It still makes me catch my breath, so here it is again:

A woman who writes feels too much,
those trances and portents!
As if cycles and children and islands
weren't enough; as if mourners and gossips
and vegetables were never enough.
She thinks she can warn the stars.
A writer is essentially a spy.
Dear love, I am that girl.

A man who writes knows too much,
such spells and fetiches!
As if erections and congresses and products
weren't enough; as if machines and galleons
and wars were never enough.
With used furniture he makes a tree.
A writer is essentially a crook.
Dear love, you are that man.

Never loving ourselves,
hating even our shoes and our hats,
we love each other, precious, precious.
Our hands are light blue and gentle.
Our eyes are full of terrible confessions.
But when we marry,
the children leave in disgust.
There is too much food and no one left over
to eat up all the weird abundance.

-- Anne Sexton, The Black Art

We know the answers, we fill us in.

Here's a link to a rock and roll song that I like a lot.

Guided By Voices - Everywhere with Helicopter

That's all.

glorious

I have a feeling that the past year marks a turning point after years of complaining about Kingston's music scene (generally summed up as a cyclical issue: lack of venues, and therefore an absence of local bands). Though finding venues is still difficult, a few musicians have broken through the local ennui and are forming bands. Really good bands. (See The Gertrudes, listen to Nich Worby's album when it comes out later this spring, go to Apple Crisp).

Magic Jordan played their first show last May, opening for Woodhands. The night was indeed magic: the gallery was hot, crowded and sweaty, and between sets, the crowd piled out into the street, lured back inside after show promoter Greg Tilson handed out sparklers. The band was electric--members were trading places, cheering their own band name and barely controlling their own energy. In the four or five times I've seen them since, the act has become tighter but the energy is still there. The band has a songwriting chemistry that brings focus through fantastic tunes that lyrically cycle and rhythmically wander. Bass player and singer Paul Saulnier's cover of Gary Numan's iconic electropop tune "M.E." (sampled on that Basement Jaxx "Where's Your Head At?" track) is not to be missed, and their first song, "Magic Jordan Part 1," just keeps getting better.

Who:
Jenni O'Neill-keys, vox
Paul Saulnier-bass, vox
Benjamin Nelson-drums, vox
Jeff Barbeau-synth

www.myspace.com/magicjordan3223

Add them up, already!

PS. All of their gig posters are wonderful. Paul and Ben do them, and Paul and Ben are wonderful.