My friend Kookeroo Kate had some tickets to see Nine Inch Nails at the lil House of Blues in Atlantic City. It’s a small club inside the Showboat Hotel & Casino. Needless to say I was pretty excited to see this, especially after seeing them at the big Wachovia Center with the full out-of-this-world production. This was described as a more intimate, stripped down performance. And man, was it ever! After scratching my head through the opening band Health (who I actually did not hate, like everyone else did), I was thrilled when NIN took to the bare stage.
The crowd surged forward quite a bit, which I expected, and at that moment it was time for me to make a decision. It’s actually something that’s crossed my mind a few times in recent months, especially after seeing Coheed and Cambria in NYC. Through my teen years and early twenties, I went to a ton of concerts and I spent most of my time rocking out right at the front of the stage, or spazzing my way through whatever wacky mosh pit or clusterfuck was in effect that night. In recent years, for whatever reason that just hasn’t been the case. Nowadays I hang back to get a clear view and keep peoples nasty sweat off of me. Sometimes I’ll even chill up in the balcony. Anyway, I made a choice to stay in the mix on this night. I decided that I would rock and roll my way straight to the front of the stage, regardless of how many tattooed meatheads stood in my way. I danced and yelled and sang along, throwing and absorbing elbow strikes all along the way. It one point during the set, one of my own songs actually sprang to my mind. In fact, it’s my masterpiece! Without question, the greatest song I’ve ever written or played. Obviously I’m talking about Ground n Pound! Everyone assumes this song is about an actual street fight or some bullshit like that, but if you pay attention to my amazing poetic lyrics, it becomes clear that the song was written about my love of experiencing shows in this way. Dig it:
if you’re lookin’ for a fight
you found one
you found a pit full of energy just like yours
flowing in circles, thrashing about
if you wanna get to the front
ground and pound
ground and pound
if you’re lookin’ for a fight
you found one
you’re full of sweat like the first time you got laid
pushing and pulling, screaming aloud
if your body’s not sore yet
ground and pound
ground and pound
Needless to say, NIN was awesome. They proved that they don’t need any outrageous stage production to be one of the most awesome bands ever. They plowed through an amazing set, and even brought out Peter Murphy to sing Reptile! How cool is that!? Being that close to the band reminded me of seeing them in 1994, which has always been a very fond memory. Every bulging vein, drop of sweat, broken guitar string, all clearly visible right before my eyes. I could actually hear the sound of Trent and Robin singing, from their mouths, not through the PA. And man, Robin Finck is 10 times more entertaining from up close. That dude makes some hilariously wild faces when he plays.
NIN SETLIST:
Pinion
Love Is Not Enough
Terrible Lie
1,000,000
Letting You
March of the Pigs
Piggy
The Frail
The Wretched
The Collector
Survivalism
Reptile (with Peter Murphy!)
Closer
Discipline
The Beginning of The End
Ghosts 31
Wish
Head Down
Gave Up
The Line Begins To Blur
Only
God Given
Down In It
Hurt
Starfuckers Inc.
The Hand That Feeds
Head Like A Hole
The NIN show was more than enough for one night, but I still had one more thing planned. I wanted to win some free money while in Atlantic City. Unfortunately, the casino at the Showboat sucked and didn’t have any live table games, just slots and computer bullshit. I needed some roulette. It wasn’t a problem since the good ol’ Trump Taj Mahal was right next door. So, we got to the Taj and located the roulette wheels. After waiting for Kate to get over her irrational fear of roulette tables, we started the gambling. I could go into detail about each bet that was placed, but who gives a fuck really. I got to the casino with $60 in my pocket, and I left with $200. About 30 seconds after leaving the casino, I found another $10 laying on the sidewalk. I picked that shit up and pocketed it without even breaking stride.
By the time I got home I was already pretty annoyed with this irritating and occasionally painful cough that I’ve had for a week now. I really didn’t sleep much in part because of that annoying hacking. Whatever! It was all cool aside from the retarded coughing.
Lately I’ve been feeling like I have so much on my mind, that forming a concise, focused blog entry seems impossible to do. With so much going on, and so many issues to deal with all the time, it could be easy to overlook some of these precious moments that I have with Darwin while he’s so young. Luckily I think I do a good job at keeping that perspective.
Since I’m a generally negative person, I spend plenty of time thinking about bad things, sad things, and just all around negative shit that I feel is sure to come my way. One of the most popular negativities in my brain is the idea that I won’t be able to have the close relationship with Darwin that I want so badly to have. It isn’t a complete fabrication of course; I get reminded fairly often that “things won’t always be this way”, referring to when he gets a little older and I’m no longer able to spend every day with him. Trust me when I tell you that I will be crushed when that day comes. I already shed tears just thinking about it. I want my relationship with Darwin to be as different from the relationship between my father and I as I can possibly make it.
Anyway, Darwin is awesome. At 15 months old he is running full speed through the house, park, mall, bookstore and anywhere else he’s let loose. He’s extremely curious about his surroundings, his favorite playthings are anything that he isn’t allowed to touch, and he has almost no fear or concern for his own well-being. As far as speaking goes, he regularly uses: mama, dada, baba, shoe, book, ball, and a few others. Unfortunately, the ear infections that plagued him through his early months have continued to be a problem. He’s now scheduled to have surgery to insert tubes into his ears in a couple of weeks. I’m told it’s a very common procedure, and that he should feel much better afterward. It’s a little worrisome, but I’m just anxious to have him be pain free since he’s spent most of his little life with these nagging ear infections on top of teething, constantly falling down, and all the other inherent hardships that come with learning how to function on planet Earth.
I’ll try to make this quick, because the more I think about it, the more my blood fucking boils.
I’ve been looking for a car. And I needed one for around $1,500 or less. I found a few on craigslist, but they all had some outrageous mileage or some other issues keeping me away. The one that was left was advertised as a 1991 Buick LeSabre selling for $1,000. I called to verify a few details, and was told the car had 117,000 miles on it.
I met up with the fucker tonight, and took the car for a quick test drive. It worked, so I was ready to go. I took out my money from the ATM and we did the deal over at the title transfer place. Done deal.
On the way home I was stuck in bad traffic, so I pulled out the owners manual from the glove box, just for the hell of it. Wow… 1988!? Is it the wrong owners manual, or IS THIS FUCKING CAR ACTUALLY AN ‘88?! Then I take a look at the mileage. Wow… 171,000?! He said 117,000! Fuck. I get home and run the VIN number just to be sure, and yep, it’s an ‘88.
A 1991 LeSabre with 117,000 in “good” condition is valued at $1,050.
A 1988 LeSabre with 171,000 in “fair” condition (which is what I got) is valued at $425.
I just got seriously ripped off. If I had paid closer attention to everything along the way I suppose I could have stopped the deal before it was too late. I guess I was too trusting. But as usual, I am fucked. I have a car, for now. But I surely can’t see it lasting very long.
I was offered three hours of work at the studio in East Falls. I accepted it, because I like making music and helping the kids make their music, but most of all because I need money. For months now, I’ve known that the car I drive has an extremely limited range. Meaning, if I go too far the car will overheat, stall, and fuck up in all kinds of ways, leaving me stranded. I tried to find a ride to work, without success. So I made the decision to take the car to work. Like all decisions that I make, it worked out wonderfully for me.
The car started to run hot on the way up there, but I made it without any issues. The ride home however, was a different story. By some miracle I actually made it onto 476 before the car stalled, but before the night was over it stalled 4 or 5 separate times, leaving me on the side of the highway. The last time was right near the MacDade Blvd. off-ramp. I sat there for a couple of hours, freezing, texting a few people, and being ignored by most of them. In the end my friend Kira picked me up. She was working, delivering pizzas in the area and stopped by to get me. I stuffed Darwins stroller and car seat in her back seat and left the fucking car behind. I assume it’s dead for good, but even if they get it and squeeze some extra life out of it, I can’t trust it to get me where I need to go, and I sure as hell can’t use it to drive Darwin around, especially since it’s cold outside now.
Of course, the loss of the car and the fucked up night are merely one tiny straw on the camel’s back. Actually, fuck the camel, it’s on my back. So many things go wrong, so often, I’m really feeling like I can’t deal with it anymore. What does that mean exactly? No idea. But it needs to stop, and I totally don’t care how. I really don’t.
My life was better before. When exactly was “before” though? And better how? I’m not sure, maybe. But I feel like right now everything sucks really, really bad. I am still constantly overwhelmed by the idea that I technically do not live with my son. At this point it hardly matters, because he’s with me for roughly 9 of the 12 hours that he’s awake each day. But that won’t always be true.
Once he’s a little older and has somewhere to be, like if he goes to some kind of day care or kindergarten, I’ll be missing out. I already miss out on giving him baths most of the time, which was one of my favorite things to do when I was living there. I’m not there to see him freaking out with his cool toys in the evening. I’m not able to go peep on him in his crib while he sleeps, which is the cutest thing ever. I miss all of it, and the whole thing just crushes me. I try to tell myself over and over that I did the right thing, but that doesn’t make this any easier. I constantly look ahead to times when he fully understands the situation and wants me there. And when he needs me and doesn’t even know it. I want to be with him, for him. And for me.
I felt such a strong bond with him when he was a small baby, and the idea of losing that is just devastating. It’s an unfortunate situation, and there’s no good answer. It happens to tons of people everywhere, and the world goes on. But I want his world to include a very present, hands-on Father. I really hope that can be possible.
Sunday September 28th 2008, 10:31 am
Filed under: Music
With very, very few exceptions, I can confidently say that I don’t like Country music. I recently came across some mention of Darius Rucker having the number one album on the Billboard Country charts. I was intrigued. I’m a huge fan of the first Hootie & the Blowfish album; Cracked Rear View. In fact, I would say it’s one of my favorite albums, and features what might actually be my favorite song in the whole world, “Not Even The Trees“. Anyway, despite it being called a Country Album, I decided to give it a chance.
As I started the album I heard… well, that thing that makes Country what it is. That twang. That guitar sound, you know the one. I was scared. But I closed my eyes and let the song move forward. And you know what, it wasn’t so bad. The second song had a similar twang, but again, it was a good song. After that, the twang didn’t seem as prominent. Don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty of finger pickin’ to satisfy your average shit-kickin’ good ol’ boy, but just like that awesome Hootie record, this album is about the songs. And these are all great songs. Darius sings stories from a more direct first person perspective than usual, but that’s all part of this genre.
There’s a solid balance of uplifting songs, heartbreaking sad songs, and just enough humor thrown in. Like I said, there are a scarce few exceptions for me in the Country genre, but thanks to this record I can never again say “I don’t like Country music”. Because I do. I love at least one Country album. Thanks Darius!
Sometimes I say things to my “grandmother” (no bloodline), that people would find surprising, shocking, and probably pretty mean. I tell her that I hope she dies. I tell her that I hate her fucking guts. Sometimes it’s more standard stuff like “Drop dead”, “fuck you”, “fuck off”, stuff like that. I say it as a reaction when she’s pushing my buttons, which she does every chance she gets. But make no mistake, I mean every word of it. I mean it as deeply as when I say “I love you” to Darwin. I really do think the world would be a better place without her in it. I don’t just mean my world, I mean the world as a whole. She an uneducated, closed minded, 85 year old motherfucker with a drivers license and a valid voter registration who thinks Hilary Clinton should be President simply “because she’s a woman”. Take my word for it, she’s not doing society any favors by hanging around this long. But just on a personal level, she’s made it impossible for us to get along. She makes zero effort to keep things cool, so fuck her. She can’t get in the ground soon enough.
As I was minding my own business yesterday, sitting at my desk working on some artwork to exercise my own demons, as well as eventually enrich someones life, I received a few text messages from someone who I’ve spent a whole lot of time with over the last decade. I don’t have the exact messages now, but they said things like “You’re so angry”, and “you’re not the same person anymore” among many other friendly reminders. And yeah, I really am angry. I know I am. Honestly, I spend at least half of my day feeling like I am right on the very edge of causing something really bad to happen to something, or someone. I feel like I’ve been saving so much up for so long that when it finally pops you’ll be able to see it from miles away. It’s a scary thought, to me especially.
Adding to my frustration is the fact that I can’t even use any of this for artistic inspiration. I have these intense, often violent images in my head, that I try and try to recreate in some tangible form, but I just can’t make it happen. My hands aren’t able to build what my mind sees. It feels like a straitjacket.
And really, this stuff is only a fraction of what’s going on. Add in the job loss, the crumbled relationship, lack of transportation, some issues with Darwin, and just 90,000 other things… I’ve just really reached a point where I don’t think I can take any more. There’s no way I can sustain this for much longer.
WORK: I lost my job. The school jerked me around all Summer, never giving me a straight answer as to when I would start, what my hours would be, and how much I would get paid. Then, at the last minute, they cut the program completely, leaving me unemployed. Needless to say, this is a devastating loss. Not only did I enjoy the job and the kids I worked with, but I also have rent and bills to pay on my own. To say I’m completely fucked would have to be an understatement. I have no idea if/when I’ll get any work from Penn, so yeah, things are pretty dire.
ART: I have a solo show coming up in December. It’s my first show since that little group thing I did in 2006, and the first showing new work since early 2005. I’ve been working on some new prints, with plenty more germinating in my brain and sketchbook. Hopefully I’ll finish a good amount of new stuff in time for the show. The opening will almost surely be on Saturday, December 6 from 6-9 PM. I’m telling you all now, so you have plenty of notice. So if you aren’t there, it’s because you choose not to be, and are an asshole.
MUSIC: As I’ve said many times, I am rarely able to be creative with my art and music at the same time. Regardless, that’s exactly what I’m trying to do. While I’m working on new art for the show, I’ve also started working on new music for the final Dark Disco Club CD. So far things are going well, but I’m sure we’ll be well into 2009 before it’s complete.
LIFE: My car is damn near dead and has a range of maybe 10 miles before it dies for the day. My Batcave still pretty much sucks, mostly because I can’t afford to get it going, and also because my slacker landlords still haven’t replaced my carpet. Also, I think I should get a big tattoo on my chest.
I just stumbled upon this map of “the Tumblverse”. Specifically the area around where I live. Now, if you are asking yourself “what the heck is a tumblverse?”, then you are part of what I am writing about, and you probably live in an area where there are no red dots. You probably live in the suburbs, and you probably like it. You probably think the city is too far, too confusing, too expensive, too hard to park in, or maybe living in the burbs has just made you too afraid that you might have to walk farther than the distance from your car door to the entrance of the local strip mall.
Meanwhile, living here is killing me. It’s killed my creativity, and it’s surely killing my body as I just sit here and grow fatter, because where the fuck am I going to walk?! I know I’m not just imagining this because I have proof. I have tons of photos of me during the years I lived in Philadelphia. While I was never exactly the next Brad Pitt, it’s amazing just how little these pictures resemble the current body that I struggle to carry around.
I’d post a nudie pic of myself in my current shape, but I’m afraid of being brought up on some kind of visual manslaughter charges or something. Ugh.
Anyway, what is the point of this post? I’m not really sure. It’s a combination of just hating the suburbs, and that hatred being amplified by the fact that no one around me is like me. The city challenges me and inspires me, while this place feels like I’m in a retirement home just waiting to die. It’d be nice to be surrounded by at least a couple like-minded individuals that share some common interests and goals. It’s frustrating to feel like you’re alone on an island with no hope of rescue.
Sunday September 07th 2008, 1:01 am
Filed under: Music
Well, thanks to some store in France that decided to sell the album two weeks early, I’ve been listening to the album for most of this past week. I guess only time will tell how this album holds up, but as of right now I really like it. Finally! The last time we had a real Metallica album was 1991, so as I said before, this was long overdue.
1. That Was Just Your Life
A beating heart opens the album, and then some tight guitar stabs set the tone for A FRIGGIN THRASH METAL FUCKINHDGHFRLYUSY! This is how a Metallica album is supposed to start! James is on fire here kids, trust me. I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about just yet, but whatever it is it’s badass and this song definitely sets us on the road to riff-mania that I needed to hear from this band. I could get all into it, but trust me, this is full on, fast, pummeling Metallica done right.
2. The End of the Line
This is right in line with track 1; riff-centered, lots of changes, hard assed all the way. The chorus on this one is as catchy as it is rocking, and that is to say it’s pretty damn catchy. You can tell this one will be a star of the live show with massive gang vocals for everyone to bite into. Oh yeah, and Kirk fucking shreds the shit out of this one! Thank god, the solos are back in a serious way. Love it.
3. Broken, Beat & Scarred
Classic Metallica verses here. No metal band does badass verses like Metallica, and they haven’t lost it yet. “What don’t kill ya, make ya more strong” sounds just sooo perfect when James sings it, especially knowing all that we know about this band. More shredding from Kirk, more tempo changes, another winner. This is one of my favorites so far.
4. The Day That Never Comes
This one was chosen as the first single and video, and the reason for that is obvious as it’s clearly the most mainstream-accessible track here. That’s not to say it isn’t good, because it is. Just not as thrashed out, that’s all. It fits right in with Metalliballads like “Fade To Black”. It picks up and rocks out at the end. All good.
5. All Nightmare Long
This one is still heavy, but a bit more on the moody side. Lars puts the double bass pedal to the metal on this one while James just straight up yells in your face. I feel like this one will grow on me over time.
6. Cyanide
“Cyanide” is the song that got me so damn excited about this album to begin with. Once I got that live video of it a few weeks ago, I played the shit out of it. The album version doesn’t disappoint. This one is maybe the most Metallica-sounding jam on the whole album, if that makes any sense. It just sounds like Metallica, without being a copy of some older song. I love this whole jam, but the chorus does it for me most of all. It’s a tight chugging riff, rather than a big sprawling rock chorus, and James lays it down right in that big ol’ James voice; “SUICIDE, I’VE ALREADY DIED. YOU’RE JUST THE FUNERAL I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR…”.
7. The Unforgiven III
Named appropriately, this is definitely a cousin of the first two Unforgiven installments. It doesn’t get all that heavy, but shit, it’s not all about being heavy. It has a piano intro, and prominent use of strings throughout. A solid rocking ballad, if you wanna call it a “ballad” even. Again, Kirk kills on this one. His solos are a little ruder and sloppier than back in the day, and that is a compliment. I really like this shit.
8. The Judas Kiss
Hello, Mr. Rude-ass-stomping-intro. Nice to meet you too! These are some of the coolest, catchiest lyrics on the album for sure. This should be the second single, even though it probably won’t be. It’s a good catchy, but significantly heavier follow up to “The Day That Never Comes”. This is another one that would be a great staple of the bands live shows.
9. Suicide & Redemption
A ten-minute instrumental. Excessive? Probably, but the boys had a lot of riffs to get out, so I’ll let it slide. It’s not “Orion”, but it’s far from bad. If I skip any track on this album, it would be this one simply for it’s combination of length plus lack of vocals.
10. My Apocalypse
Not one of my favorite tracks on the album, but still good. It’s a loud rocker with harmonized guitar leads, a full blast screaming James, and enough blast beats to annoy your parents. Good job, Metallica.
I am soooo happy that Metallica made this record. I’ve been hopeful, optimistic even, but there was always that fear in the back of my mind that maybe it was over for these guys. That maybe they just didn’t have another great record to give. I’m so glad they did.
