Fire!

THE WATTLED SMOKY HONEY EATER PRESENTS: SUPER MASSIVE FUN TIME HOOTENANNY EXPLOSION WITH ROBOTS*!

(image via ffffound)

Summer is almost at an end, for most university students in and around New York City. For some of us, classes begin on the last day of August, an abrupt end to a summer that was, weather-wise, too short.

This is an invitation for YOU to come CELEBRATE the END OF SUMMER with US!

We will be on the roof of 100 S. 4th Street (The Rocket Factory) in Brooklyn, NY beginning at 4:00 PM.

So come and bring an instrument, your listening ears, some food or libations, and your friends!


If you'd like to perform, bring some songs/jokes/stories/&c with you, two at a time in a round-robin style hoot!

Check the event page on Facebook.

Performers so far include:

Yours truly

Lars Johnson-Ballard (of Alaska Alaska)

Oliver Ignatius

Flotzy

You!

AND MORE!



*Robots may or may not be a figure of speech

Lazarus Post

I've been taking a bit of a hiatus from WSHE these summer months, shifting gears.

New pieces are in the works, and will be up soon. In the meantime:

"What You've Done to My World," by Mark Greif (N+1).

WE GIVE YOU MUSIC

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.

Mister Stage Presence

With a full orchestra

Loudon Wainwright III, "I Am The Way" Live in Amsterdam, 2000.

I'M ON A BOAT, AND IT'S 2009, AND...

I don't know that we've posted too many songs so far this year that have been released in 2009. For that I...WE apologize.

These days when I'm listening to music I'm at a friend's house listening to music I've heard before or scrolling through my iPod listening to music I've heard before. I haven't really been too much on the internet, scouring torrents and websites and things for the new jams. I've been at school, reading books.

I mean, yeah, Merriweather Post Pavilion came out and how do you follow that? Say what you will about Animal Collective, but that was a thoroughly epic album. I was a bit bothered by the absence of a guitar, but I read an interview recently in Cyclic Defrost that sort of put my frustrations to bed.

Merriweather will always be an album I love, but I still think Sung Tongs and Strawberry Jam are better records altogether, but maybe it's just because I've heard Merriweather so damn often since it came out earlier this year. (I mean, the Virgin Megastore in Union Square in New York has a big advertisement with the album cover.) It's certainly the album that will get them HUGE, but I know I'll probably turn into one of those fans who "only likes their earlier stuff".

Bon Iver's Bloodbank EP was also pretty great, but I will say it was kind of a letdown although I've been wildly obsessed with "Woods" for periods of time. (I mean, it's like my guilty pleasure music fusing with music I actually listen to...what more could you want?)

Maybe I just haven't listened to it enough, or devoted much time to actually listen to it, save this once when I was at my friend's apartment, and she'd just bought the record. I found it and demanded we listen to it. I've never listened to DeYarmouth Edison before, but I can imagine it's a lot more like what they might sound write rather than Justin on his extremely personal debut album.

Really, though, I've been drifting lately. Oliver Ignatius' album, Demos for Secund was just put on iTunes. If you haven't checked him out already, please do. I don't care if you've flipped the bird to pop music forever, but you might want to go back and listen to him. I've posted a few songs before, just click his tag.

Other than that, this has been more of a year of literature and comedy for me so far. I've been reading a hell of a lot, so I'd be more suited to suggest books rather than songs:

The Crying of Lot 49 by Thomas Pynchon
A Handf ul of Dust by Evelyn Waugh
A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole
Les Fleurs du Mal by Charles Baudelaire

But I don't really want to do that.

Anyways, if you have anything to suggest, let me know, I don't want to be reduced to posting nonsense like that last post...

Impending Doom

If you aren't so angry your head is about to explode, you haven't been paying well enough attention.

If you aren't laughing so hard your head is about to explode, you don't have a very good sense of humor.




More words on different subjects later. Life is overwhelming and very exciting.

Post-Post-Post-Modernist Folk Tales

Illustration by Amber Albrecht

I think the best folk tales we have in our generation are the lies our parents told us when we were children.

Every night before bed when I was younger, my father would come into our rooms and tuck us in, lie down and make up a story to tell us. I'm speculating, but, I'm pretty sure they were generally fabricated on the spot.

The ones he told me were usually incongruous and catered to my interests, which, as a pre-adolescent growing up in the nineties, dealt largely with cartoons and comic books, video games and violent television shows. I really can't say I remember any one of those stories in particular, but I do remember a brief series on The Ninja Turtles, as my mother forbade me from watching the cartoon for some reason.

The stories he told my younger sister, Maggie, were much more interesting to hear back then, But I find them even more interesting to think about now.

Usually, these stories centered around a young girl named Melissa-Ann and her various adventures, which were strangely similar to events in Maggie's daily life.

Melissa-Ann scores a goal in the soccer game, Melissa-Ann sings in the holiday concert, Melissa-Ann and the bullies on the playground, and so on...

Maggie ate those stories up, and every night begged to be told a new one before bed until she was much too old to be told bedtime stories. Even I sat in on a few and remember them fairly well.

Eventually, the life of Melissa-Ann turned into utterly fantastic legend, involving space travel, dinosaurs, pirates--even the tooth fairy and Santa Claus made cameos. There might have even been one where Melissa-Ann celebrated Passover and Elijah appeared at the dinner table, but I might be making it up.

Years later, after my father's funeral, my mother, sisters, and I were forced to stand in a line at a reception in an events room below the church sanctuary. After the painstaking hour of pre-rehearsed "sorry for your loss"es, and "if there's anything I can do..."s from people I barely knew, a twelve year-old Maggie turned to me and asked,

"Where was Melissa-Ann?"

BETTER LATE THAN NEVER. THIS IS LAST YEAR.

Matthew Herbert Big Band - "The Story"

How did I miss this in 2008? I kept scrolling through my iTunes ignoring things I have yet to hear until today, I found There's Me and There's You, done by the Matthew Herbert Big Band. The album's genre was the number eight, so I had to see for myself what this was.

I'd never heard of Matthew Herbert or his Big Band before, so I did some research. Apparently this album is about an abuse of power, and the British avant-garde, electronic musician, &c. recorded most of the Big Band's samples for the album in the British House of Parliament. Side question: Now that we got Obama, when is Girl Talk or Madlib going to do the same in The Capitol?

But, seeing as we are a blog that likes talking about our feelings, I'm going to get into how the first track made me feel, rather than talk about who Matthew Herbert is. (But I'd suggest checking him out, read the link.)

"The Story", the opening track, literally goes in with a bang. The following series of crescendos; electric spider beats, echo, drum, voices, bass, and fazed out guitar announce the beginning, which is the arrival of something potentially epic. I was a little disappointed when the final lift reached its climax and petered out,

until the horns chimed in, replacing heavenly layers of chaotic melody with smooth, funky soul. I felt suspended, for a brief moment in this transition, unaware of what would come next, wishing the introduction had been longer, or at least more thematic of the song itself, until the singer finally began.

Her voice so sexy and suave, she'd swoon as though she were moving her hips wherever she was when she sang it. I imagined her, hands gripping oversized headphones, pop-filter shielding her microphone from her face, eyes closed, mouth swaying and shimmying as she harmonized, moving and grooving.

But there was also a tinge of jagged lemon as her song vigorously tore away from the flow of the horn section. They say John Lennon was the lemon juice to Paul McCartney's olive oil, but the singer, whoever she is, seems to have both, moving between or somehow mixing the two.

After the opening track, the introduction, I find the album is incredibly diverse. Herbert mixes samples of many different types of these "nu-jazz" songs. Some are showtunes! SHOWTUNES! and I actually thought it was good?

Wow.

MY LIFESTYLE DETERMINES MY DEATHSTYLE

Hearts of Darknesses

Walked a few blocks too far.  They said it was 915, but somehow we'd managed to walk to 1080.  Fuck.  It was how many blocks past the subway? 

Found the place, seven bucks at the door.  Snuck in some 40s and drank them in the most clandestine way we could think:  in the bag.  put 'em at your feet when you're not.  

Some girl from NYU kept hitting on me.  

And somewhere between awkward conversations, Snakes Say Hiss, and some nonplussing hindie Brooklyn rock and roll, Hearts of Darknesses ripped apart the room, kniving through the audience: christ-like, subterranean group of twentysomethings and college students with the synth line in "Vibes".  

I was just standing there; paralyzed, St. Ides in hand, staring straight ahead, but inside I was dancing, repeating a phrase in my head over and over.  It was one that's been stuck in my head for months now.  

"Clementine, Everything is falling apart."  

A few weeks later, I'm sitting in the ruins, smiling out from where the walls once were.

AMALGAMATION. ASSIMILATION. ACCUMULATION.

"eyes glueup sittin in dark sun peekup" - Oliver Ignatius

Can you make out what those ethereal, hints of whispers you can't be sure you hear in the early morning are saying?  They echo silently before the rain lets up and the sun rises, leaving no trace they were ever there.

Every morning, the witching hours fall slave to the sun, and every night the sun sinks in tiresome defeat. The Aztecs, at the height of civilization, were never quite sure if the sun would rise again once it had set.  Blood offerings were made to assure existence would continue as normal.

Can you imagine?  Every day could very well be everybody's last?  Everyone believes this?  And you're all OKAY with that?

The lonely distortion at the very beginning of everything begins to tell me my fortune until it's drowned out by the brief stints of rain.  It appears again and again, but suddenly the rain stops.  Predictions of my unclear future reverberate in my head.  

The guitar continues to sing cryptic messages.  A tarot spread, a crystal ball.  A cell phone rings somewhere.

Over and over, I can hear you talking in your sleep.  "And we called it lightning," you seem to say between even breaths.  To dream of something so powerful!  

I envy the world you find in your reveries.

I don't care if this song is just a demo: it's beautiful in it's imperfections.  I hear T. Rex behind the veil, and hints of John Lennon's soulful swagger in the delicate melody.

Oliver has continued to create.  I've failed to post.

 -________________________________-

on another note:
Did you know the term "bling bling" apparently originates from this song?

"Bling Bling"  - Juvenile & Lil Wayne

THE GOALS WE NEVER MEET

I found this "Life plan" I wrote for myself on October 27, 2006.

Let's see what I've accomplished in two years.

1. Learn Carpentry
2. Graduate College
i. Learn Spanish
3. Go into the Peace Corps
4. Record Songs, Make Music for fun.
5. Direct a film I've been writing. If it succeeds, become a film maker. If it flops, do something else.
6. Possibly get married (i suppose that depends on the circumstances)
7. Open a photography business- either become a freelance or journalisitic photographer, hopefully for National Geographic. Possibly a photography firm. Shoot and sell fine art prints.
8. If photography and film making fail, become a carpenter
9. Travel and create.
10. Retire. Travel more. Create more. Die.



Nothing.



Now, let's look at the revised one.

1. Graduate College by May 2011
i. Learn Spanish.
2. Learn some kind of trade. Carpentry? Teach Yoga maybe?
3. Grad school, Montreal, Fine Arts.
4. Find some way to pay back my student loans.
5. ???
6. Die.

SO I AM NOT A HUGE FAN OF THIS SONG BUT WATCH THE VIDEO

Maybe on mute.

HAIKUS FOR A TIRED NEW YORKER

overslept this morn,
gotta be catchin' myself.
don't you rain on me

back and forth, L train.
twelve more stops 'till class begins
i did no homework.

early i'm awake,
New York City, let me sleep
work at eight ain't great.

busy busy bee,
up and down a train called V
sleep did forget me

sick as your old dog
mumbling 'till i can't no more
leave me to my self.

sometimes hear you say,
it don't smell like love to me.
i can't smell at all.

glass-bottle blues, babe.
stumblin' down this busy road,
hiccups a-plenty.

once the brown guitar
let me know not to forget
we're all folk singers.

CECI N'EST PAS UNE THEORY

Prisoners are those who have offended the state (and usually some third party) in some punishable way (and been caught).

Within the Western Art world, we no longer (necessarily) consider the art we produce to be "good" for its beauty, composition, style, or form, but based on who it offends and how:

Art that is offensive for the sake of being offensive is not what I would call "good" art.

But art that is honest, art that raises important societal questions offends society in a way that aims to move it forward.

I find artists and criminals share this connection: both groups, if we can separate them, offend us: prisoners through negative action (rape, murder, theft) while artists (for the most part) through a more positive medium.

There are a lot of parenthetical comments and holes in this idea, yeah, but what's absolute or politically correct these days?

DO YOU AGREE?

IT'S AMAZING WHAT YOU FIND DUMPSTER DIVING

That (c)hat is ridiculous.

DAMN YOU, THIEVES.

The universe must not want me to be in possession of a laptop.

I've bitten off more than I can chew.
I need a vacation.
I'm counting down the days until Thanksgiving.

Can anyone say bad timing?

So I saw you playing on SNL

Now I see you're on Youtube too and you've got your songvoice and your acoustic bass and your British accent.

Welcome to the best thing I've seen in the past week.

yep.


clay and tyler, you owe me a post.

I was catatonic the entire time.

Manjushri - Namasangiti

(item no. 65391)

1000 - 1099 Northern India

Buddhist Lineage, Stone

Collection of Rubin Museum of Art

(courtesy of himalayanart.org)

"Fill That World" - Oliver Ignatius

"Talkin' Rajasthan Blues" - Oliver Ignatius
"Hop Skip and a Jump" - Oliver Ignatius

We got to talking amidst a brief break from class. Music, of course, was one of the first things we discussed.

"Do you write?" He asked.

"Kind of. Nothing I do really takes off... all really stays the same the whole time," I said between sips of lukewarm coffee.

"Sometimes, that's all you need."

I posed the same question back to Oliver, who had apparently just finished recording his second album. He'd done it all himself, he said, from recording the various harmonies and melodies, to instruments, to mixing and mastering.

About forty minutes later, after class, I asked him if he had anything he could show me.

"Sure," he said, "I guess you could call it the 'hit single' if anything." He proceeded to show me "Hop Skip and a Jump".

Decent, truly independent stuff is hard to find. Open-mic nights have lately bored me; almost as though nothing I've heard since the Summertime Potluck Hootennanies Tyler and I put on really excited me. By now you've probably heard us rant about Nicholas Beaven, Bruhder, Vikesh Kapoor, Whistle Jacket, and others. But if I may present to you all Oliver Ignatius.  Someone I'll probably be ranting about often from here on out.

You can download the rest of his album, Demos for Secund here.

Mac users get unrarx to download the songs. It's free and worth it.

On an unrelated note, if you haven't heard the Fleet Foxes BBC Radio 2 Session FM on Aquarium Drunkard, I suggest you do so now.