Friday, November 03, 2006

We are lke other bands. Nov 1.

posted by Majestic Ape at 9:47 AM

**I’m completing the actual writing of this entry while sitting on the floor of the bathroom in the Brother’s Studio on early Friday morning**

Nov 1

I left the studio at some point in the morning and went walking around alone. I visited the usual range of shops. I wanted nothing and needed nothing, except sleep. The rest of my crew went to breakfast at the Acapulco Diner. The goal for the day was Erick’s bass tracks. I asked for headphones to listen to Erick’s track and to also review all the keyboard tracks from Day 1. My rhythm is always consistently ahead of the beat. It’s frustrating and annoying to Erick and Jeff and they have instructed me to rock side to side when I play, like a human metronome. I think its helps some. But nonetheless, all of my tracks were just 1/1600 of a sec ahead of the beat. And Erick loves to say that I do this because I listen to too much Rush. I don’t get the logic. In spite of my band rhythm, Josh assures me over and over that we can fix my crappy timing. I believe in him. I am convinced.

At 5:15 pm, we packed up and rushed off to load-in at the Knitting Factory. We were playing the main stage at 9:30 pm as part of the Panache/Blue Ghost showcase. The show was sold out early. My band had big drinking plans for after the show. I didn’t plan on partaking. Jeff claimed he planned on drinking at least 4 or 5 shots of something rail and a lengthy debate ensued on how much one can drink before vomiting and which types of alcohol can be mixed safely. This topic has been hotly debated in the Apes van, over and over again. There is never a consensus. Jeff ALWAYS disagrees with the crowd based on the sheer ridiculousness of their ideas and lack of scientific based evidence to prove anything different. I often have my own views about such things and will cite scientific journal articles and various studies but my crew has no interest in my citations. Tonight the topic extended to how much alcohol one can drink before passing out and dying.

The load-in at the Knitting Factory was a mess. Leonard Street was basically under massive construction so I parked on the sidewalk and the 13 other band vans tried to find equally important parking spaces. After the equipment was in the club, I moved the van to a street that allowed parking after 7 pm. Since it was only 6:34, I decided to just sit there until 7.

I was suddenly starving. I had cans of tuna and bags of cooked brown rice in the van and stood on the street with my can opener trying to not drip tuna water on my feet. I needed some leverage to open this can so I sat on the steps of a very fancy apartment building to do tuna prep and leaked smelly fish water all over those steps. Jayme showed up just as my meal was prepared in a little plastic container and she sent me into sound check while she sat with the van.

Sound check was the smoothest I remember it at this club. Everyone was going to eat together at an Indian restaurant so I went along to be with the group. I figured I would eat my sad little tuna and rice cup before the show to avoid a nasty digestion and get something decent later. I know that meal may have looked sad to others but I bring spices on the road and that night I was enjoying the Penzey’s Singapore Seasoning blend. Its delightful, dammit.

While we were eating, Jeff kept joking about how his food was going to look and smell in a few hours when it came back up.

We went back to the club. Our beloved owner of Birdman Records arrived. I love David Kaznelson dearly. He is an amazing man. It was awesome to see him and we shared a drink and caught up till I had to change clothes. David joined us in the dressing room. I was also surprised by my ever-loving ex-boyfriend, Andy, who I had not since in many months.

We had to play at about 9:30. After we were all set up, I noticed I couldn’t find my adaptor to my delay pedal. I swore I had set it on top of my keyboard after sound check. Did someone swipe it? I couldn’t believe it. The house was packed. We were totally excited to play and I wanted my effects working. Nothing I could do, so I asked the soundman to put some delay on the Nord in the house. However, I couldn’t control it and I have different delays for different songs. I had to get my shit together and start my pre-show speech. Well, things started out great. I was building some solid audience rapport in my transsexual pre-op voice, and then I kicked the voice pedal and turned it off. I had no idea how to fix it. I was fucked again.

I took off the ski mask and spoke to the crowd without the microphone. I explained what I was going to say and I knew this set was going to be awesome anyway. The rest of my crew came out and we tore into it. I had a great time and I feel like we locked in with each other and with a whole lot of people in that crowd.

After the show we all ran upstairs (my adaptor was in my case) and agreed how great we felt at that moment. I changed and went off to find David. He was downstairs in the hallway and introduced me to some of his business associates and then bought me his favorite drink—Bushmills on the rocks. The other Apes emerged shortly after and more drinks were purchased. Jeff just threw down 2 drink tickets and said, “Gimme a double whiskey.” It was gone moments later and than David bought him another drink. Hmmmm… Jeff is a man of his words.

I started chatting with David’s friends. One of the men had just started a company called Spot DJ and we spoke at length about the concept. The Apes are going to do a segment for him when we get home. I’ll explain more once I remember what it actually is. I also spoke at length to another friend of David’s. Later, people told me that this man invented Lotus 1-2-3, the spreadsheet program. Wow. It was incredible to meet someone who had done the complete and total opposite of anything the Apes had done—basically create a product that is wildly functional and desirable by the masses. Still, I believed that an incredible amount of heart went into the process of both types of endeavors.

We continued to hang out in the bar for a long time, talking to people. I forgot about Jeff and the alcohol. Eventually, David and his friends left. I had lost track of my band mates and went back to the dressing room, incredibly sleepy. I sat on the couch, talking to the guys from Genghis Tron. Jeff stumbled in. He looked weird. He sat on the floor behind the couch, next to me.

“How many drinks did you have?” I asked him.

“Six…” he slurred.

“Are you serious?” I had to confirm this, but I knew he was serious. He is the most honest person I know.


“Are you gonna puke?”

“No…” he sort of laughed with his eyes half closed.

A few minutes later, I went to pee. There was someone in the bathroom. I waited in the hall for that person to vacate. As soon as she left, Jeff rushed in. I thought I heard the sounds of diarrhea hitting the toilet water. Nope, it was definitely vomit.

When he emerged, 8 or 9 or 15 minutes later, I asked him if he was okay.

“Yup, I’m fine. That bathroom isn’t.”

Somehow, he told me, even though he never ate lentils for dinner, the bathroom was now covered with them.

Then he told me Erick had gotten in a fight downstairs and was almost kicked out of the club.

“WHAT????!!! Why didn’t you tell me earlier??”””

Even though Erick and I are not always nice to each other, he is my oldest friend and more like a nasty little wise brother. Many years ago, a girl attacked him in Richmond and I jumped in the fight. I know I would have the exact same reaction now.

“Some Dutch guy called Breck a (the N word) and Erick freaked on him and took his notebook out of his pocket and threw it and then the guy grabbed Erick by the neck and started choking him. The club tried to throw them both out but suddenly Erick was able to calmly explain what happened and then the manager became his best friend and threw out the Dutch guy.”

I can’t believe I missed that. I rush off to find Erick. He’s fine. Jayme is fine, too. Well, Jayme is drunk, but she is having a great time.

Suddenly its 2:00 am, the show is over, and I go to get the van. The block that I parked on is quite empty. There is a man, with a stolen white van, decorating it with colorful spray paint in an alley. I sit in our van and watch for a few minutes. He is almost done with one whole side by the time I pull our van over. Wow. These guys are fast!

I drive back to the club and another mess of a load-out ensues. Jeff is sitting on the curb. He doesn’t look good. When I ask him to get directions to Tim’s house, he says, that’s cool. I can’t read the screen but I’ll get you directions.

We make it to Tim’s with only a few minor screen reading issues. He tells me I need Walter street but I only see Walker. Its Walker street. A few more wrong turns and we are there.

Jeff jumps out and squats on the sidewalk by the van door before I finish parking. I don’t realize he is there on the ground and almost break his head open with the van door while I move the van closer to the curb. Erick is pretty impressed by Jeff’s projectile liquid vomit.

We sleep on Tim’s wood floors. Jeff sleeps in the van in case of more puking. Its nights like these that confirm we aren’t completely unlike other bands.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

The power of N
Semantics of the black dictionary

The connotation of the N-word (oops better not say nigga) is changing on the streets, claimed by blacks and dignified, it sounds like a black form of dude, a more edgy version of bro. Being politically correct adds nothing to new power but confirms only a status quo that is defined by the ruling class, that is the afflluent class, breaking through this correctness is an attack on the ruling class by the poor black males mainly. And I sympathize with any break down of power, that is why i came to America, to eat away of the legs from which the American comforts are consumed.

Breck X

10:36 AM  

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