THE WATTLED SMOKY HONEYEATER PRESENTS:
BACKYARD SHOW!
POTLUCK!
HOOTENANNY!
POTLUCK begins at ONE O'CLOCK.
HOOTENANNY from ONE to FIVE.
PERFORMANCES beginning at 6 O'CLOCK!
PERFORMANCES by:
THE ACCIDENT THAT LED ME TO THE WORLD
BARNA HOWARD
FRANK HOIER
MUTINY AMONGST FRIENDS
OLD HANNAH*
VIKESH KAPOOR
WHISTLE JACKET
HOOTENANNY means ANYONE can perform -
whether it be a dance, a poem, a song, a joke -
whatever you want to do!
But the limit is TWO songs -
or poems, or jokes, or whatever -
at a time.
That way, everyone gets a chance.
So bring your instruments!
And sweet eats!
And smiling faces!
(And your friends ~ the more, the merrier!)
THE BACKYARD can be found at 11 HOLMES COURT
in DARIEN, CONNECTICUT.
The show is FREE,
but donations (for hard-travelin' musicians) encouraged. <3
*Full disclosure: this is Tyler's band.
Showing posts with label Clay. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Clay. Show all posts
7.17.2009
6.10.2009
Reboot
Its been a while since any one of us posted.
(Moving into a new apartment and just having internet installed after 3 weeks of bureaucratic miscommunication had something to do with it, but admittedly, it was mostly laziness)
So:
Its time to start fresh. This is the summer of music.
In the vain of Grizzly Bear's Blog and El Guincho's Blog, two personal favorites,
we involved here at the WSHE are going to start posting our own music on the site in addition to our writings and other creative musings.
We hope you enjoy...
To kick things off, here is a new minimal electro style song a la The Field or m83.
4.21.2009
4.16.2009
Spring Mix 20000009
(World's Largest Pool- Beach Resort in Chile)
Ahh, sun in the sky, love in the air, leaves on the trees and also in your hair.
Its Spring. This mix is good for BBQs, outdoor hangouts, and other Spring-like activities.
Enjoy!
----------------
Tracklisting:
1. Boat Club - "All the Time"
2. Arthur Russell - "Arm Around You"
3. Erykah Badu - "A.D. 2000"
4. Junior Byles - "Curley Locks"
5. El Guincho - Jugadores de Juegos"
6. The Clash - "Police & Thieves"
7. Allá - "No Duermas Mas"
8. The-Dream - "Mr. Yeah"
9. King Tubby - "King of the Arena"
10. QUIET VILLAGE - "Keep on Rolling"
4.06.2009
El Guincho KEXP
One of my favorite artists for the past couple years, the sun-drenched dub/tropicalia/calypso/trance/electronic/boogie-inducing El Guincho, one dude from the Canary Islands of Spain, recently paid a visit to Seatle's KEXP to do an in studio performance. Accompanied only by one friend on percussion, electronic and analog, El Guincho continues to create an infectious and warm experience that exudes positivity and creativity. I think the second song, "Bombay," which to my knowledge is not on either of his LP releases, is going to be played at only the best celebrations of the future.
I love this guy, I think you will too.
You can also check out this Pitchfork Live performance from this past winter that is just great.
"Bombay," on Pitchfork TV:
3.30.2009
My 25 Favs Right Now, So Far
without too much thought, in no important order, as of 2009, some 25 (more or less) favorite records that had a big impact on my love for music (in a good way) in the past few years, as i can remember it:
panda bear -person pitch
el guincho - allegranza
broken social scene - feel good lost
animal collective - npr live series 9/27/07
david bowie - low
john cale - fear
compilation - johnny greenwood is the controller
bob dylan - blonde on blonde
brian eno - here come the warm jets
the field - from here we go sublime
m83 - before the dawn heals us
a tribe called quest - the low end theory
modest mouse - sad sappy sucker
radiohead - kid a
wilco - summerteeth
death from above 1979 - you're a woman i'm a machine
wolf parade -apologies to the queen mary
devendra - niño rojo
don caballero - american don
the changes - today is tonight
no knife - fire in the city of automatons
animal collective - sung tongs
van morrison - astral weeks
jeff buckley - live at sin-e
what about YOU???
3.19.2009
The Hipster, The Hipster, and That
"The Beat Generation, that was a vision that we had, John Clellon Holmes and I, and Allen Ginsberg in an even wilder way, in the late forties, of a generation of crazy, illuminated hipsters suddenly rising and roaming America, serious, bumming and hitchhiking everywhere, ragged, beatific, beautiful in an ugly graceful new way--a vision gleaned from the way we had heard the word 'beat' spoken on streetcorners on Times Square and in the Village, in other cities in the downtown city night of postwar America--beat, meaning down and out but full of intense conviction--We'd even heard old 1910 Daddy Hipsters of the streets speak the word that way, with a melancholy sneer--It never meant juvenile delinquents, it meant characters of a special spirituality who didn't gang up but were solitary Bartlebies staring out the dead wall window of our civilization--the subterraneans heroes who'd finally turned from the 'freedom' machine of the West and were taking drugs, digging bop, having flashes of insight, experiencing the 'derangement of the senses,' talking strange, being poor and glad, prophesying a new style for American culture, a new style (we thought), a new incantation--The same thing was almost going on in the postwar France of Sartre and Genet and more we knew about it--But as to the actual existence of a Beat Generation, chances are it was really just an idea in our minds--We'd stay up 24 hours drinking cup after cup of black coffee, playing record after record ofWardell Gray, Lester Young, Dexter Gordon, Willie Jackson,Lennie Tristano and all the rest, talking madly about that holy new feeling out there in the streets- -We'd write stories about some strange beatific Negro hepcat saint with goatee hitchhiking across Iowa with taped up horn bringing the secret message of blowing to other coasts, other cities, like a veritable Walter the Penniless leading an invisible First Crusade- -We had our mystic heroes and what's wrote, nay sung novels about them, erected long poems celebrating the new 'angels' of the American underground--In actuality there was only a handful of real hip swinging cats and what there was vanished mightily swiftly during the Korean War when (and after) a sinister new kind of efficiency appeared in America, maybe it was the result of the universalization of Television and nothing else (the Polite Total Police Control of Dragnet's 'peace' officers) but the beat characters after 1950 vanished into jails and madhouses, or were shamed into silent conformity, the generation itself was shortlived and small in number." -Kerouac
Now we wear expensive jeans, cheap t-shirts, dabble in music, drugs, life. no one takes things too seriously. we try to represent a culture- or the future of our culture, for that matter- it is too dangerous to dedicate oneself to anyone thing because nothing is perfect enough. our tastes and ideas have been gentrified. we pout when we play music. the things bought for us are the best because we don't have to analyze their value long enough to devaluate it as a worthwhile belonging or statement. spiritualism is a struggle for a minority of the hidden psuedo-free-spirited.
hedonism has overcome mental expansion. we take drugs to relate to the finite not the infinite. the "hipster" thinks he's someone else. self-worth is no longer internalized (self-appreciation too, for that matter); self-worth is determined by how others judge you and you judge them. we judge others and ourselves, nothing is sacred except that intangible critique.
this mentality is internalized in us when we are growing up in that cliché privileged and bigoted suburban coming-of-age. we get educated. by a system. we learn to think outside the system (as much as it allows us).
to the bottom line. (a bonfire of the vanities? a bonfire of vain persons?)
what this generation lacks is sincerity, honesty, first-hand experience, internalized experience, a sense of gentle humor, compassion, introspection, calls for change...
The real hipsters were "jailed and sent to mad houses." But what is so wrong with searching? Have things really changed that much where we can be free to think and do what we want to do, not hurting anyone, just being kind as much as possible? I think things haven't changed that much, and thats why our generation is the way it is. because we know deep inside what is actually out there and we are up against the walls in the last fortress of what we know: ourselves and the culture we dip our feet into once and a while, and our impulses too. we are limited to those, how they shape us.
we need to look into crystals and forget what's not important. who cares? I want to create. Let the critics be who they will, those who are afraid to create. To the bottom line. Is it enough? Is that enough?
2.09.2009
The Hipster, The Hipster, and That
"The Beat Generation, that was a vision that we had, John Clellon Holmes and I, and Allen Ginsberg in an even wilder way, in the late forties, of a generation of crazy, illuminated hipsters suddenly rising and roaming America, serious, bumming and hitchhiking everywhere, ragged, beatific, beautiful in an ugly graceful new way--a vision gleaned from the way we had heard the word 'beat' spoken on streetcorners on Times Square and in the Village, in other cities in the downtown city night of postwar America--beat, meaning down and out but full of intense conviction--We'd even heard old 1910 Daddy Hipsters of the streets speak the word that way, with a melancholy sneer--It never meant juvenile delinquents, it meant characters of a special spirituality who didn't gang up but were solitary Bartlebies staring out the dead wall window of our civilization--the subterraneans heroes who'd finally turned from the 'freedom' machine of the West and were taking drugs, digging bop, having flashes of insight, experiencing the 'derangement of the senses,' talking strange, being poor and glad, prophesying a new style for American culture, a new style (we thought), a new incantation--The same thing was almost going on in the postwar France of Sartre and Genet and more we knew about it--But as to the actual existence of a Beat Generation, chances are it was really just an idea in our minds--We'd stay up 24 hours drinking cup after cup of black coffee, playing record after record ofWardell Gray, Lester Young, Dexter Gordon, Willie Jackson, Lennie Tristano and all the rest, talking madly about that holy new feeling out there in the streets- -We'd write stories about some strange beatific Negro hepcat saint with goatee hitchhiking across Iowa with taped up horn bringing the secret message of blowing to other coasts, other cities, like a veritable Walter the Penniless leading an invisible First Crusade- -We had our mystic heroes and what's wrote, nay sung novels about them, erected long poems celebrating the new 'angels' of the American underground--In actuality there was only a handful of real hip swinging cats and what there was vanished mightily swiftly during the Korean War when (and after) a sinister new kind of efficiency appeared in America, maybe it was the result of the universalization of Television and nothing else (the Polite Total Police Control of Dragnet's 'peace' officers) but the beat characters after 1950 vanished into jails and madhouses, or were shamed into silent conformity, the generation itself was shortlived and small in number." -Kerouac
Now we wear skinny expensive jeans, cheap t-shirts, dabble in music, drugs, life. no one takes things too seriously. we try represent our culture- or the future of our culture, for that matter- it is too dangerous to dedicate oneself to anyone thing because nothing is perfect enough. our tastes and ideas have been gentrified. the things bought for us are the best because we don't have to analyze their value long enough to devaluate it as a worthwhile belonging or statement. spiritualism is struggling in a minority of the hidden free spirited.
hedonism has overcome mental expansion. we take drugs to relate to the finite not the infinite. the "hipster" thinks he's someone else. self-worth is no longer internalized (self-worth or self-appreciation for that matter); self-worth is determined by how others judge you and you judge them. we judge others and ourselves, nothing is sacred.
this mentality is internalized in us when we are growing up in that cliché privileged and bigoted suburban coming-of-age. we get educated. by a system. we learn to think outside the system, as much as it allows us.
to the bottom line.
what this generation lacks, is sincerity, honesty, first-hand experience, internalized experience, a sense of gentle humor, compassion, introspection, calls for change...
we need to look into crystals and forget what's not important. who cares? I want no part of it. I want to create. Let the critics be who they will, those who are afraid to create. To the bottom line. Is that enough?
Reflections #2
(from The Big Picture)When someone shouts/hollers/yells/whoops in public alone, people might think they're crazy.
While if someone does the same in a group, people might think they have a great story.
The problem is that everyone has some kind of good story.
1.28.2009
The G-O-D
I'm running cutting down trees with fucking swords. I do this at night, not because I think I will get caught, but because I like being hidden. That's an important distinction. I have at least two swords at a time. And I sell drugs. I do it to prove a point. The point is people call me the antihero.
I wear a black sweat suit and ski mask, black air forces. I hear black keys on the piano, whispering in the trees, rustling; the only sound outside of my speed, agility, my nasty racing through the woods.
I steal from people. Sometimes they don't know it, sometimes I let them know it. I am like a human air force, a human strike team, guerilla, covert, a rambo-type motherfucker, except I'm fast. And I choose who hears me talk.
The trees are only a byproduct of my one path: the swords are meant for people. They are vampires and all fang. Some may call me a cog in this system of dark survival- I AM the system.
This nighttime-creeping that I live in, these acts that I do, this cutting that I rain down most heavily on the cityfolk, is hegemonic. I know that. I LIKE slashing. Most deserve it. They don't know anything about it. That's not an important distinction.
But I've already told you too much... The swords are vampires and all fang. The Swords are the P-R-O-P-H-E-T. The night is the G-O-D.
1.22.2009
As Promised
Recently, we have had some new feedback. As promised, if the feedback could be expounded upon, shall we say, more precisely, I promised to post it. here it is. please give us more feedback. we love constructive criticism in all forms...
---
why write more and say less when u can write less and say more? tell me, what sounds more real
"i bulls-eyed the song's heart, i plotted each fanfare, each cry"
or
"i truly FELT the pain in that song"
in my opinion, when u leave it at that (or whatever) its like ur inviting whoevas readin into feelin it too without giving away too much. u let them experience it fo themselves
i dunno man, r my ramblins gonna stop u fools from writing like a buncha intellectuals who look down at fools like me and go "oh he must listen to t-pain, he must be uncultured"? probably not. ye i listen to hip-hop, maybe u guys should too... and not just the hiphop that pitchfork recommends. yall ever heard smif-n-wessun? bump some of "dah shinin" its a straight classic
dont assume i listen to t-pain. that fools got dolla signz in his eyez.
i try not to overanalyze what i read and what i hear. thats what bitches do, which is why they neva know what the fuck they want in life. don't be a bitch... keep it simple boyz
---
A quick response...
We appreciate comments. We don't appreciate insults. First off, This is a creative writing blog, not a file sharing blog, or a US weekly, etc... In defense of Tyler, he never claimed that you/ the reader liked T-Pain (although we hope you do), he claimed HE liked T-Pain. As do I- and NOT ironically. Sincerity is something truly lacking in today's pop culture. That is what we appreciate about your comments. Respect, though, that we are also being sincere, expressing ourselves to our friends and those interested. That is what art is. That is why this blog exists- the whole meaning IS feeling. So it seems kind of pointless to say, this song made me feel something. That would get repetitive and dull.
So, just for you, Levelle (and of course myself, which is why I started this blog in the first place), look out for some posts on hip hop very soon. But don't expect me to post it and say "I like this." This is a creative writing blog. Keep that in mind. Don't like it, don't read it.
Thanks,
-Clay
1.08.2009
Clay's Self-Reflections #1
Once and a while I will take some time to think about myself, my thoughts, my opinions, how things affect me and those around me and try to remember them or write them down.
I found a few in a notebook of mine recently...
Nirvana gives me a semi.
---
Thirteen going on kickass.
---
Do strippers have unions?
---
---
Found this yesterday:
---
12.28.2008
12.09.2008
12.08.2008
Long After an Accident Outside Rio Gallegos: A Haiku
Smashed truck by God-crushed,
Huge Sky, Sun-side, His target
Poor Driver, life-road.
Ushuaia
It was too cold to camp at the end of the world
so I stayed in a hostel at the end of the world
I met familiar faces at the end of the world
The sun set late and rose very early at the end of the world
I climbed a glacier at the end of the world
and ate snow at the top of that glacier at the end of the world
I ate king crab and drank beer at the end of the world
Mountains towered over us at the end of the world
I met two Basque brothers at the end of the world
Who spoke strongly about their struggle for independence, at the end of the world
I found an apocalyptic safe haven at the end of the world
People live in the wilderness at the end of the world
(whatever that means) at the end of the world
Shipwrecks, stray dogs, and abandoned outposts at the end of the world
The water frothed under us,
Clouds moved in and out and passed over us,
Then I, too, passed over the end of the world.
11.14.2008
Water Treatment
An Experiment.
Question: How many times can I reuse a water bottle before the residue displaced from the inside of the bottle due to heat starts to hurt my stomach?
Result: 5
Masculine/ Femenine, Earlier than the Train
The Climate, the Weather
The PLAnes
The SystEm
The ProbLem.
---
Like the purple fall of dusk,
Lifting the heat
off of
The city's corners
Changing the color of the graffiti.
11.10.2008
Great Twos
Two Men that I think
show bravado, classical man-ness, and a redefined cool:
- Clint Eastwood
- Sam Cooke
Two Companies I think show
innovation, success, and are also cool:
-Jet Blue
-Apple
Two Toppings I think show superior food-altering capabilities:
- Franks Red Hot Hot Sauce (not necessarily cool)
- Peanut Butter
Any additions (examples or categories)?
10.22.2008
The Friars of Our Era
"Skyscrapers" - Detachment Kit
This Latin American metropolis is just like that North American metropolis, which is just like that Great Britain metropolis, which is just like an Ancient Roman metropolis.
As I walk in the morning past old faculty buildings and museums, people travel daily from residence to business. It is an age old routine. Wares and livelihood, family and household.
---
Pigeons scuttle along their routes on the sidewalks, courtyards and windowsills. They are modern day's gregorian monks, diminished in size, and in sound and color's tone. They hobble, chanting early morning in a language everyday folk have trouble understanding.
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