ornoth

Twenty-two years ago, I was just minding my own business.

At the consulting company where I worked, I had just finished developing BankBoston’s HomeLink & OfficeLink banking applications, and was about to roll onto a new project for a local startup.

I received an email from some new hire who was moving our (land-line!) telephones to the new team area. As you might expect, she ended by saying that anyone having concerns should call her at extension 1366.

Just one problem there: x1366 was my phone number!

I immediately emailed her back and discovered that she’d accidentally typed my extension (1366) by transposing the digits of her own (1633). Not an auspicious first impression for a new hire fresh out of college, whom I was going to have to work with on my next project!

And that’s how I met your mother...

Despite starting off in decidedly bizarre fashion, once I met Inna in person, I decided to cultivate a friendship. At work I orchestrated time together under the pretenses of tutoring her on web design and speaking to my coworkers individually about team morale.

I charmed her with hair down to my hips and bizarre boyish antics. I ran the team’s junk food fund—known as “SnackLand”—and wrote a web app so the team could vote on what they wanted to buy. When I ordered a new bicycle, I had it shipped to work in a box, assembled it, and rode it around the office space in my consultant’s white shirt & tie, despite bikes not being allowed inside the building. The security guards freaked out when I eventually brought it down to the ground floor to ride home!

But with Inna, the deal was sealed when I persuaded her to come to my place after work to meet my cat Puggle: the fluffiest longhaired creamsicle you could ever meet. From that point forward, we were an item.

Not a public one, mind you. We kept our romantic involvement strictly a secret at work for some time, only exchanging furtive kisses when we were alone in the elevator between floors. It wasn’t something we wanted people to know at first, but we’d eventually let the proverbial cat out of the bag.

In the meantime, we spent a lot of time together. I was still into Boston’s local music scene, and we went to countless live music shows.

One of our early dates will always stand out in particular. We were having dinner at Brown Sugar Cafe, a neighborhood Thai place, looking for something to do for the evening. I was lamenting that there were no good bands playing, only some stupid punk band calling themselves “The Damned”.

Little did I know, but The Damned were Inna’s teenage idol band, an aging English group whom she’d been following for more than a decade, but had never seen live. It was as if I’d waved a magic wand and made her dreams come true by turning three Fenway rats into her favorite brooding goth heartthrob singer Dave Vanian, drunk buttocks-exhibiting glam guitarist “Captain Sensible”, and (perhaps least of a transformation) a back-alley waste product drummer called “Rat Scabies”.

Needless to say, within a couple hours we were off to Axis for an evening of noise, profanity, and unsolicited exposure to middle-aged man-butt.

In those early days, neither of us made particularly desirable partners, and our relationship was very off-and-on for the next seven years, until Inna moved back to Pittsburgh. We remained best friends—with occasional benefits—for another ten years while we both matured into adults capable of tolerance, compromise, and forgiveness.

When the obscene Hell-spawned winter of 2014-2015 prompted me to leave my beloved Boston, Inna suggested I come to Pittsburgh to see if we could stand living with one another.

With four years of cohab now under our belts, we’ve settled in to a stable, lasting partnership. The future’s a bit up in the air right now due to the Corona virus, but we’re confident and comfortable facing whatever comes up together.

Reflecting back on the hundreds—if not thousands—of concerts I've been to, there are a couple that stand out as tremendously disappointing, and they have quite a bit in common.

In September 1984 I saw Yes in Portland ME, touring in support of their immensely popular 90125 album. My date and I wound up leaving toward the end of the show when she freaked out after losing a treasured piece of jewelry.

A year later, my future wife and I were at the very first show in Rush's Power Windows tour, coincidentally also at the Portland civic center. We were at the edge of the stage when—during their single "Big Money"—fake dollars bearing the band's portraits rained down from the rafters above us.

These were both widely-known and unquestionably talented groups near the height of their popularity, with a huge back catalog of hits, videos in constant rotation on MTV, and deep-pocketed promoters. So why did these shows suck so badly?

Some of the problem stems from the collision between high expectations and a very pedestrian reality. But beyond that, in both cases the band members simply stood there and played their stuff, with no movement, no emotion, no stage presence, and no connection with the audience whatsoever. Despite their immense reputations, they just phoned it in.

It doesn't help that the albums were heavily overproduced, very characteristic of the mid-1980s. The early use of sound samples reduced much of the performance to triggering pre-recorded bits in sync with a click-track. That left damned little room for improvisation, spontaneity, or even variation.

I know some people see a band to hear them perform their repertoire in a familiar way. But I don’t see any point to a live, in-person performance when the band’s involvement is reduced to mechanistically playing a note-for-note reproduction of what appeared on the album. The music was obviously incredibly tedious for the bands to play, which sucked all the energy and excitement out of the crowd.

The best thing I can say about those shows is that they both had cool concert tee shirts. The kind you’d wear around to show everyone that you’d seen this really cool tour… Even though it had been about the most disappointing show you’d ever seen.

If I were to choose the destination for a birthday trip, I probably wouldn’t choose Cleveland. However, that’s what Inna wanted. At least it’s easily accessible from home. Here’s a quick trip report.

The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame: I wouldn’t call it disappointing, but it was spotty. A third of the building was closed and under construction. The layout was chaotic and confusing, so we probably missed some of the exhibits, but we saw nothing from numerous major acts like the Who, Michael Jackson, Kiss, the Bee Gees, Abba, Pink Floyd, Duran Duran... While entire walls were devoted to some acts, superstars like Elton John and Madonna were represented by one item each. But then what would you expect from an institution that is only now getting around to inducting Joan Baez, ELO, Journey, and Yes? Overall I give it a C+.

Spent a lot of time around Market Square. Ice cream at Mitchell’s was awesome. Killed time playing Codename Pictures and Forbidden Island at the Tabletop Board Game Cafe. Had a good dinner at the Great Lakes Brewpub, where Inna ordered and mostly stared at their flight/sampler of twelve five-ounce beers. Salivated a lot while browsing the huge West Side Market meat and produce stalls, where Inna (after some tribulation) eventually fulfilled her quest for a slab of strawberry cassatta from Cake Royale.

Returned downtown and checked into our hotel before the main event: a punk concert at the House of Blues by Inna’s adolescent idols, the Damned. They seemed tighter than previous performances, and overall it was a good show despite an iffy mixing job. Not so good was the rain-soaked walk back to the hotel afterward, nor the 3am fire alarm and building evacuation later that night.

After a decent hotel breakfast, we stopped by a mall in Mayfield Heights to hit the World Market (an internationally-focused grocery store) with an unplanned bonus bra shopping expedition.

Other than Inna’s desire to see the Damned, nothing about Cleveland was a must-see by any stretch of the imagination; however, we enjoyed the trip, got a nice break from our regular daily routine, and had fun together.

Then, after a night’s sleep, we got up and hit Pittsburgh’s amateur Art All Night exhibit, which we both found engaging, then enjoyed a damned savory lunch at Salem Halal on the Strip and a lovely walk around the Highland Park reservoir.

Nice weekend with the little woman.

It’s official: in six weeks TT the Bears will shutter and disappear, leaving Central Square that much more normal.

Right next door to the Middle East, TT’s booked bands that would have struggled in that larger venue. But that gave TT’s the freedom to feature all kinds of unknown but enjoyable acts.

And the tiny size of the club made the concertgoing experience that much more intimate, whether you wanted it or not! You couldn’t physically get more than about 30 feet from the stage.

I can’t say I was a regular at TT’s, but I did see my share of shows. My buddy Bob Corsaro will be glad to know that I was there to see his ska band, the Brass Monkeys, play no less than four times. Multiple shows by Boston ska royalty the Allstonians and Beat Soup. Inspecter 7. Dow Jones & the Industrials.

One of the more memorable shows I enjoyed was Mono Puff, a bizarre alt-rock collage orchestrated by John Flansburgh of They Might Be Giants fame. As they might tell you themselves, “It was totally rockin’!”

But the most unforgettable moment was the night I met Greg Hawkes, the original keyboardist for the Cars. He was the only band member who showed up at a 2005 show celebrating the release of a Cars tribute album by a collection of Boston-based bands.

I was introduced to Mr. Hawkes by show organizer Andrea Kremer, and actually got to sit with him and chat before he took the stage as guest performer for “Just What I Needed”. It remains one of the most cherished memories of my time in the scene. You can read more about that show and see my other photos in my blogpost, “Life’s the same, except for my shoes…”

Now TT’s becomes another in a long list of legendary Boston music clubs that can only be spoken of in the past tense. But these memories remain.

I find myself in the mood to record a brief rundown of the major events of 2011.

In terms of my Buddhist practice, a few nice things happened. I completed a year of dedicated compassion practice, I became a paying member of CIMC for the first time, I began volunteering to read announcements at Wednesday evening dhamma talks, I continued attending CIMC’s Long-Term Yogis practice group, did another sandwich retreat, and attended our kalyana mitta group’s first weekend retreat. My daily practice thrived, partially due to finding time to sit during my lunch hour at work, and partially thanks to the mild competition fostered by the Insight Timer Android app, which allows one to earn badges and see how often one’s Facebook friends are sitting. Overall, I am comfortable with my meditation practice and happy with the results.

As alluded to, I also went back to work after a 2-year hiatus. Like any job, the new gig has its ebb and flow of both rewards and annoyances, but the influx of cash is certainly welcome. And despite having to overcome frequent outbreaks of stupid amongst my coworkers, I am getting to do the frontend design and development work that I enjoy. Unfortunately, it’s the longest commute I’ve had in a long time, but during the summer that gives me the opportunity to get some weekday bike rides in.

On the cycling front, the miles I gained by commuting didn’t quite offset the fact that working for a living meant I couldn’t spend summer days riding, so this year my mileage dropped from 5,000 to 3,000. But the income gave me the opportunity to do a long-needed complete overhaul of my bike and buy a new mapping GPS cyclo-computer. And I still did all my major events, racking up seven centuries, only one less than I rode in 2010. Notable rides included a rainy Jay Peak in Vermont with my buddy Jay, and a rainy three-state century with Paul and Noah. And I even had a training question published in the online magazine RoadBikeRider.

This year’s Pan-Mass Challenge was very memorable, as well. I began the season by attending my first PMC Heavy Hitter banquet and also the dedication of the PMC Plaza that comprises the entrance to Dana-Farber’s brand-new Yawkey Center for Cancer Care. I shared the ride itself with Jay, who enjoyed his first PMC. And despite riding on a loaner wheel because I discovered cracks in mine at the last minute, I still did my fastest Saturday ride ever. After the ride, I was delighted to find that a photo of me leading a paceline occupied the PMC Home Page for more than three months, and then was used again in a thank-you advertisement that Dana-Farber placed in 105 local newspapers throughout Massachusetts. Being the PMC’s poster boy and attending the dedication of the PMC Plaza both made me immensely proud of the years of work I’ve dedicated to the PMC and the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute.

Despite all that, I have to say that I was frustrated by this year’s cycling season. This was the first time that I had clearly lost ground against my riding buddies, who admittedly are 20 years younger than I am. I don’t know whether that fall-off was because my competitive spirit has lessened, because work prevented me from training more, because of the natural fall-off due to aging, or whether there might be something more serious going on. All I know is that some of my rides (especially the Climb to the Clouds and the Flattest Century) were really painful, unpleasant slogs this year.

In the same vein, this was the first year where I felt that my health had declined. I found myself fighting frequent intense headaches that often included nausea and vomiting, especially when I traveled (which turned the Flattest Century and Jay’s Labor Day ride around Mt. Wachusett into terrible experiences). I also noticed that I sometimes experience cardiac issues when riding flat-out, where I feel a sharp, intense pain in my chest and my heart rate drops by about 15 bpm for 30 to 60 seconds. These have, of course, been added to the list of things that I need to bring to my PCP, but they’re also the first indications that my body is starting to decline. Which brings me right back around to my spiritual practice!

In other noteworthy events, I observed my tenth anniversary of buying my condo, and remain extremely pleased with that. I got to see the Cars perform live, which was truly a once-in-a-lifetime event. I got around to making ice cream flavored with Pixy Stix candy with SweeTarts bits mixed in, which was fun but not quite the confectionery orgasm that I was hoping for. And I decided to punt on my planned trip to California for the second year in a row; the good news being that I am more committed than ever to making it happen in 2012.

Speaking of which, I’m not making too many plans for 2012, but there are already some themes emerging. I’m going to spend a week on the Riviera Maya (outside Cancun) with Inna. I’m finally doing my first residential meditation retreat at IMS (5 days). I’m once again going to try to make California happen in September. Of course I’ll be doing my 12th Pan-Mass Challenge and probably Outriders, but I also hope to do some new cycling events, such as the Mt. Washington Century, the Eastern Trail Maine Lighthouse Ride, and/or the Buzzards Bay Watershed Ride.

So if things work out, 2012 will be an interesting year, too. With just nine hours until it begins, here’s hoping!

I used to spend my free time hanging out in the Boston club scene, seeing live music nearly every day. In those years, I saw a lot of noteworthy shows, some of which are cherished memories.

But those days peaked about sixteen years ago. I really don’t go clubbing anymore, and don’t really listen to much music at all. But I keep my eyes peeled, and once in a while I see a show that’s too compelling to pass up.

The last time that happened was three years ago, when Devo came out of retirement to record their first album in 20 years. Being a huge fanboi, there was no way I was going to miss their first live show in New England in more than two decades. And it was, as they say, an electric performance.

Recently, a remarkably similar series of events took place. Another of my absolute favorite bands from the 80s—The Cars—got back together after a twenty-year hiatus and put out a new album and a handful of concert dates to support it. I made damn sure I was there when they took the stage at the House of Blues last week.

It was my first time in the new House of Blues on Lansdowne Street, which consolidated the space formerly occupied Avalon and Axis. Not bad, but not as intimate as those smaller clubs, and absolutely nothing like the old, original HoB location in Harvard Square. I took up a position above the stage, near the mezzanine rail (echoes of Paradise), and settled in for the show.

It was gratifying that despite their advancing years, the band played pretty tight. Ric’s voice is still a perfect match for Greg Hawkes’ awesome synth work, and Eliot executed his guitar solos with energy and precision. They put on a really good show.

The setlist featured a handful of okay new songs, several of the obligatory classics, and a generous number of their slightly more obscure songs. I was especially gratified that “Moving in Stereo” was the first song played for their encore.

The Cars are a Boston band, and they appeared to remember it fondly, making reference to the Rat, and telling the crowd it was “nice to be home”. Seeing them on Lansdowne Street, the row of clubs behind Fenway Park’s “Green Monster”, then walking home and stopping to get some ice cream at JP Licks on trendy Newbury Street… it was a quintessentially “Boston” evening.

Although I haven’t picked it up yet, I will probably acquire the new album sometime in the near future. Looking forward to that, too, although like the new Devo album, it’ll probably be a mixed bag, with some hits and some real misses.

But all in all, a new Cars album makes me happy, and finally having an opportunity to see them play live was ridiculously cool. Although I did get to meet Greg Hawkes and see him perform a couple Cars tunes at the tribute show at TT’s a few years ago, as described here. That was ridiculously cool, too.

Rock on!

Anyone care to venture a guess who that handsome baldy fanboy in the front row is, rocking out to the first DEVO show in Boston in 25 years? (the original writeup here)

I remember the first time I learned of DEVO’s existence. It was 1981. After he got home from work, my father used to watch the Merv Griffin Show before supper. One day, his musical guest was a band called DEVO. I wish I could find it on the net somewhere.

They came on in their energy domes and played “Whip It”, plus one or both of “Beautiful World” and/or “Freedom of Choice”. I was seventeen and pretty full of rebellion; it struck a chord, if you will. I went out and bought a cassette of “Freedom of Choice”, then “New Traditionalists” when it came out. I became a DEVOtee.

That was twenty-seven years ago now. DEVO flamed out a year or two later, producing a couple fitful final LPs for Enigma at the end of the 80s. They never were quite dead, but they weren’t a band, either, never touring or producing new material. It was hard to be a DEVO fan in those days.

There were rumors of live shows every decade or so. Maybe Central Park, or more often on the west coast. I never got to one. And, frankly, I had little hope of ever seeing them play. I’d gotten used to the feeling. If you ever want an example of the Buddhist concept of impermanance, just try following your favorite rock bands for a decade or two, and watch as they each either explode or wither and die. Where are they now?

To cut the reminiscences short, DEVO played here in Boston about a month ago. It was—no exaggeration—their first visit to New England in more than twenty years.

When I first heard about the show, I was torn. That was in the middle of Inna’s upcoming visit, and I knew she wouldn’t be into it. But I checked with her, and that wound up being the same night one of her friends was in town, and a good time for them to have a girls’ night out at some shi shi fru fru Fronch (sic) restaurant.

So I got the green light and went to book tickets. No way. Ticketbastard wouldn’t sell tickets in groups of less than two. What?!? And what’s more, they were selling for a minimum of $80 each. There was no way I could justify $160 for a concert, even for DEVO.

Then, just after Inna’s heart-wrenching visit, since she’d left town early, the day of the show came, and I was morose. So I checked once more. Not only were they selling single tickets, but they were selling individual sixth-row tickets for $45 each. I scarfed one up and mustered the energy to do a little happy dance.

Took the MBTA’s “Silver Line” subway (really just another bus) for only the second time in my life (and the second time in three days) down to the South Boston dump where they put up the “Bank of America Pavilion”. Got inside with no problem. Got some pizza. Got a really cheap, thin tee shirt and a plastic energy dome (with instructions on how to purchase a hard hat insert so you could actually wear it) for fifty bucks. Ran into former SAPE co-worker Erik and his wife, which was amusing. Failed to run into a current co-worker’s husband Matt, which was sad. Sat through a thankfully short set by 80s no-name Tom Tom Club while two geriatric old ladies who had won their tickets from a radio station danced in the aisle next to me. God help the middle aged. Quickly!

Then watched DEVO. They rocked. Not sure what more can be said. It was a very special time, and a real treat that I never imagined I’d actually live to see. And then I rode the T home, wearing my energy dome, which was kinda special, too.

About the only disappointment was that now there’s no one I can share the moment with.

All answers. Two words. Got picture? Now go!

1. Explain what ended your last relationship? Thermonuclear war.
2. When was the last time you shaved? Carpe diem.
3. What were you doing this morning at 8 a.m.? Reading clock.
4. What were you doing 15 minutes ago? Presto change-o.
5. Are you any good at math? Radical one.
6. Your prom night? What prom?
7. Do you have any famous ancestors? Your gran'mama.
8. Have you had to take a loan out for school? Not really.
9. Do you know the words to the song on your myspace profile? Haha FTN!
10. Last thing received in the mail? Credit offers.
11. How many different beverages have you had today? OJ Simpson.
12. Do you ever leave messages on people's answering machine? Stupid question.
13. Who did you lose your CONCERT virginity to? Ailsa Loverboy.
14. Do you draw your name in the sand when you go to the beach? Fucking egotism.
15. What's the most painful dental procedure you've had? 30,000 dollars.
16. What is out your back door? Newbury Street!
17. Any plans for Friday night? QUITTING JOB!
18. Do you like what the ocean does to your hair? What hair?
19. Have you ever received one of those big tins of 3 different popcorns? Ewww no.
20. Have you ever been to a planetarium? Yawn. Yeah.
21. Do you re-use towels after you shower? Before, too!
22. Some things you are excited about? Munny! MUNNNNNY!!!
23. What is your favorite flavor of JELLO? Dead kelp.
24. Describe your keychain(s)? Null set.
25. Where do you keep your change? Under scotch.
26. When was the last time you spoke in front of a large group of people? Work award.
27. What kind of winter coat do you own? Leather, suede.
28. What was the weather like on your graduation day? Schoolkid question.
29. Do you sleep with the door to your room open or closed? Nasal passage.

The Bentmen They keep on fighting for the love to show…
	View the full set here.

One of the world’s most characteristic voices has been silenced. Joseph Hill has died.

Joseph was the heart and soul of the reggae band Culture, who came to prominence in the mid-1970s with a string of popular and influential hits. Throughout the intervening years, Culture continued producing very original, soulful music, and touring widely.

I first saw Culture perform at the Middle East in March 2001, then again at the same venue in 2002. Later that same year, I saw them at the now-destroyed House of Blues in Harvard Square, where I was able to shake the man’s hand. Most recently, I had the good fortune to see him at Harpers Ferry on May 12th, just three months ago.

Even at 57 years of age, Hill continued to perform a hundred concerts each year. But what made Culture special was Hill’s personality. He was an inspirational and charismatic spokesman for reggae music, his island, and his beliefs, and he held audiences rapt with his aura of wisdom, mysticism, and love. When Joseph Hill took the stage, you knew you were in the presence of a wonderful, gentle man with a powerful vision of a world without barriers and free of conflict.

May Jah grant him the peace and rest he so highly deserves.

Let’s see if I can actually communicate how cool last week’s show was. I gave it a shot earlier, but gave up when I broke 1,000 words without even getting to the punchline.

So let me tell you every cool thing about last Thursday’s show at TT the Bear’s…

It was a CD release party for a Cars tribute CD put together by a bunch of indie bands, many of them local.

The Cautions not only played the Cars’ “Nightspots”, but one of their songs included a two-bar transition into the guitar introduction to Devo’s “Q: Are We Not Men?”, which almost caused spewage. I made sure to corner their lead singer to communicate my appreciation.

West Virginia’s The Argument, not only played “You Might Think”, but also their own “Speak My Mind (The Cheddar Song)”, about the lead singer’s cat. You’d think that might be kinda kitschy, but I found it a very moving song. Lyrics here.

More importantly, I finally got to meet marm0t, whose LJ I’ve been reading for a year or two. She founded and runs the Boston Pop Underground, and helped organize the show. She also introduced me to Peter Kuehl, who produced the tribute album, and LiveJournalers schmeef, and a couple others she’ll remind me of when she reads this.

She also introduced me to Greg Hawkes, the Cars’ keyboardist, who was in the house. Well, actually, I more swooped down on him while they were talking and quickly co-opted a couple minutes of his time. I sat with him at his table and we talked about his current situation, Mark Mothersbaugh, and this and that. I fear I waxed indulgent in heaping praise on him and the Cars, but he smiled and nodded as if it were all news to him. And I was right up front to get the pictures when he went onstage for a cameo performance of “Just What I Needed”.

The Phoenix’s Brett Milano did a writeup this week which can be found here. But my pictures are better (click for bigness).

It really was mind-blowing, sitting there, chatting with one of the motive forces behind arguably the best pop band of the past 30 years, while the genteel Hawkes listened intently and graciously. And I want to thank marm0t for taking time to chat with me, as well. I first friended her a couple years ago because she sounded very cool, and she proved even cooler in person. Despite being one of the show’s organizers, she took time to chat with me, introduced me around, and even bought me a round. I think that means I owe you one, marm0t. Thanks for making my evening!

Here are a couple more shots from Digital Photography class. The first is the standard stairwell shot, and the other something from our day spent shooting portraits. We’ve also done a still life / product shot and two event shoots: one a panel discussion, the other the protests at the state house over same-sex marriage. However, I’m really not happy enough with any of those to share.

Since coming to Boston and getting involved in the local music scene, one of my dreams has been to do concert photography. I still take my camera to assorted shows and sometimes wind up with something particularly nice, like this shot of Prince Buster, or the shots of the Bentmen and Beat Soup that I haven’t put up.

One thing I’m happy about is that the Allstonians have put up some pictures I took of them at a free outdoor show at City Hall for Boston Harborfest. You can see them here, but be warned that only the first four, and #9, are mine.

I want to do a lot more of this, and hopefully build up both a reputation and learn more techniques for low-light work.

Who is your favorite singer/musician? Why?: I can’t say I have a particular favorite musician, either artistically or personally. I enjoy a number of artists’ work from a variety of genres, and there are several musicians whom I count as interesting personalities, but I don’t feel the need to obsessively order them in a particular ranking.
What one singer/musician can you not stand? Why?: In contrast, Stevie Nicks really annoys me, both musically and personally, although I’m sure there are numerous others.
If your favorite singer wasn't in the music business, do you think you would still like him/her as a person?: Do you mean “favorite” artistically or personally?
Have you been to any concerts? If yes, who put on the best show?: Have I been to any concerts? Probably a thousand, many of them very memorable. Again, I can’t give you one best, but I’ll tell you who were most memorable. For local bands: Powerman 5000, the Bentmen, Upper Crust, Concussion Ensemble, Emergency Broadcast Network. For national acts: Dance Hall Crashers, Prince Buster, Moby, and Laibach. However, I think the gold medal goes to KMFDM, the Toasters, and (believe it or not) Gary Numan! Without question the worst national act I’ve seen was Yes.
What are your thoughts on downloading free music online vs. purchasing albums? Do you feel the RIAA is right in its pursuit to stop people from dowloading free music?: The recording industry is wholly and perfectly within their rights and is morally and legally obligated to crush the illegal copying and distribution of copyrighted works. As someone who has purchased about fifty albums as a direct result of Audiogalaxy.com, I believe they’re also just as emphatically going about it in completely the wrong manner. By trying to use the legal system to pass and enforce laws which are in practice unenforceable, they have placed themselves in a directly antagonistic relationship with their customers: about the stupidest thing a business can do. Instead, they should have used a three-pronoged strategy: first, encourage music swapping; second, use the new technologies to enforce limits on the number or longevity of user-copied material; and finally, find ways to make people want to possess licensed copies of their works by increasing the value-add in the packaging, or giving additional benefits to customers who purchase electronic distributions. And shutting down Internet-based radio stations was one of the most shortsighted tactics I’ve ever seen from an industry known for its avarice.

What was the first band you saw in concert?: Uh, that would be Loverboy, 8pm July 5th 1982 in Portland Maine, with my first girlfriend, ailsaek. Although Huey Lewis and the News was the opener, so I guess they would technically be the first band that I saw.
Who is your favorite artist/band now?: The question is too ambiguous. I don’t think I could give you a favorite band of all time, although candidates would include Devo, Stan Ridgway and Wall of Voodoo, Billy Squier, KMFDM, the Toasters, Gangster Fun, Dance Hall Crashers, and They Might Be Giants.

Favorite local bands would include Beat Soup, Bim Skala Bim, Steady Earnest, Brass Monkeys, Pressure Cooker, and Concussion Ensemble.

Favorite band of the moment would probably be Joseph Hill and Culture, followed by Third World. I’ve been in a roots reggae phase for the past year or so.
What’s your favorite song?: That’s utterly impossible. Every year since 1991 I’ve put out a “my favorite songs” compilation, and I always have a hard time limiting it. How could I possibly choose between Devo’s “Going Under”, Sweet’s “AC/DC”, KMFDM’s “Brute”, and so many others? It’s just not possible.
If you could play any instrument, what would it be?: Drums. No question there. I’ve done some African hand drumming (on my klong yaw), and a little kit drumming (I own both acoustic and electronic kits), and there’s nothing as cathartic as banging on things. Unfortunately, I have no sense of rhythm at all, so it’s a lost cause. Hopefully, though, I can con my buddy Matt into giving me some lessons.
If you could meet any musical icon (past or present), who would it be and why?: I’ve always wanted to talk with Bobby Chouinard, the drummer for Billy Squier. I’ve always admired his beats and particularly his fills, and aspired to his sound. Unfortunately, Bobby died about five years ago, and I was crushed when I heard the news. I’d always meant to actually look him up and get in touch with him sometime.

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Entries tagged with concerts

The Whole Damned Story

The Show Must Go

Take Me to the Cuyahoga Valley Make a Man of Me

Too Tough to Bear

Farewell, Number Eleven

It’s the only way to live… in Cars

Goin' Under

To a Place Where All the Mutants Go

It's meme.

My sister’s eyes: fire and snow…

And sometimes I ride on bus X-82...

Life’s the same, except for my shoes…

Photographic Bandage

Friday Five #38

Friday Five Fifteen

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