JEROME
Philipp, Tell me about your most inspiring show...
PAM
Well, I liked Juarez a lot, because it felt like a dream. It felt the most transcendent. It felt like we literally stepped into another world, and were there for just short enough to not fully grasp it. You know what I mean? I felt like my reality was trying to catch up with that moment. Before it could, we were already back in America, in El Paso, and there was a major difference for me, emotionally. So that stood out the most for me.
JEROME
That's good, Juarez was sort of a dream-like experience--
PAM
And when you add the Oh Sees...
JEROME
A whole different world, long enough to eat a meal, and then get into the show...
PAM
All of us eating meat together, that was really special.
JEROME
'Cause we don't do that together.
PAM
It was awesome, man. Four bands together, just kicking it, eating meat, taking over one whole taco stand in Juarez--
JEROME
The ZZ Top taco stand.
PAM
That was really sweet. And it was the Line Bar.
JEROME
And its gone.
PAM
A little speck of history. It is like a dream, because you'll never see it again.
JEROME
Those guys _were_ so sweet there, they were really hospitable.
PAM
It was really smart. It's a good idea, if you can work it as a promoter... That's the place. All these young kids, even older, want to get into cool shit. Be smart. Get into America and make money.
JEROME
(to Fatima)
Did you have a most-inspiring show?
FATIMA
I liked them all in different ways, there is something I liked about Wednesday night I didn't like about the other ones... I liked being at South by Southwest--
PAM
It's pretty rad. It's like Burning Man for bands, what do you think?
FATIMA
Yeah, totally.
PAM
Burning Man for bands, except the only thing that's burning is your skin.
JEROME
I think we were lucky, because that was the one hot-ass day that there was, the whole festival, the day we showed up.
PAM
Really?
JEROME
That's what it sounded like.
PAM
Interesting. Dude, it was insanely awesome though. It was like Burning Man, I was cruising around, I'm like 'Oh my god, I've got to stay out of the sun, this is totally like Burning Man.'
FATIMA
I got to see everything that I wanted to see, and I got to talk to a lot of people that I wouldn't have. But everything that I wanted to see, I got to see.
JEROME
That's great.
FATIMA
Last year was such a free-for-all, I had no idea what was going on, and I felt like it was really hard... It was really neat, there were a lot of people that saw us last year, who recognized me on the street.
JEROME
That's really amazing.
PAM
That's great.
FATIMA
Three sperate people, three sperate times were like "Hey, you're in Sugar and Gold!" I was like "really? All right."
PAM
Hot, Fati.
FATIMA
People came to our show just to see us.
JEROME
I know, I was really touched by that. There were several kids that came out, that went out of their way to come off the beaten path to come out to the Hole in the Wall.
PAM
Anita and Jeff?
JEROME
The engaged couple who were trying to get us to come to Mexico to play their wedding?... Too expensive most likely, but it would have been cool.
after a moment
JEROME
I didn't even look at the South by Southwest schedule... at all. I tried to go to the 2 Live Crew show with you guys, but when the line was cut off, and you guys were going to go hustle, to try to get in, I was like, "I don't want to spend my time--"
FATIMA
It wasn't that hard, we just--
JEROME
No, I am sure that it wouldn't be that hard, but I didn't want to spend my time trying to hustle into the big media shows--
FATIMA
--gave a security guy 20 bucks.
JEROME
What, it just cost 20 bucks?
FATIMA
And not only that, but it wasn't even that packed.
JEROME
Really? I figured it would be sooo packed.
FATIMA
And after a while--
PAM
Where?
FATIMA AND JEROME
(together)
The 2 Live Crew Show.
PAM
It was packed...
FATIMA
It was packed, but... all those people that were standing outside, like, I thought it was going to be unbearable.
PAM
Yeah, I know, It wasn't... they kept it decent.
FATIMA
And by the end of the show, half those people even left.
PAM
I think they just tried to over-hype it.
FATIMA
And for how many people were standing outside, I thought it was kind of absurd, because the crowd wasn't going crazy in there.
PAM
They weren't half the time, most of the time it was pretty chill.
JEROME
But that's kind of what it seems like at all the bigger shows here, people just...
PAM
And the sound sucked, I'm sorry to say. It blew so hard, no wonder people were leaving, my God.
NICO
For that bass...
PAM
Yeah, and for that venue, that many people, this is the sound? Gnarly.
JEROME
When I hear this, it makes me glad that I went to find quiet places to drink beer.
PAM
But it was good to see, I felt. The energy was rad, and like--
Friday, April 04, 2008
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
[03-16-08]
Dallas, Texas. Deep Ellum.
This place is amazing, the neighborhood beautiful and filled with ghosts, the bricks mortared with soul. A year ago, you couldn't drive down the street Thursday through Sunday; they would close it off to accommodate the throngs of celebrating pedestrians. A mayor can change a lot in a year--rumor has it that a new mayor is responsible for 'cleaning up' the area. I don't know the factors behind it, but a world-class nightlife district has been effectively shut down. Clubs transformed into lofts, local economies smashed and replaced by corporate infrastructure primed to take money from the hands of the community and place it instead into hegemonic coffers. As Pam said to Greg, "say what you like, but where we come from, we call that gentrification."
Of course, there were increasing problems with crime and violence in the area, though it seems that crime and culture often walk hand in hand. Back in the 20s and 30s, when cats like Blind Lemon Jefferson and Robert Johnson worked these clubs, crime--from cocaine to larceny--was already an entrenched resident of the community.
Certain neighborhood institutions have survived. Club Dada is one of these. Greg tells us, over the BBQ pit in the marvelously spacious back patio, that it will be around for years to come.
Spent some time thinking about the nature of evil, and its relationship to branding and corporate sponsorship. The thing to remember is that the dark side has a really strong sense of family, and a whole lot to offer.
Dallas, Texas. Deep Ellum.
This place is amazing, the neighborhood beautiful and filled with ghosts, the bricks mortared with soul. A year ago, you couldn't drive down the street Thursday through Sunday; they would close it off to accommodate the throngs of celebrating pedestrians. A mayor can change a lot in a year--rumor has it that a new mayor is responsible for 'cleaning up' the area. I don't know the factors behind it, but a world-class nightlife district has been effectively shut down. Clubs transformed into lofts, local economies smashed and replaced by corporate infrastructure primed to take money from the hands of the community and place it instead into hegemonic coffers. As Pam said to Greg, "say what you like, but where we come from, we call that gentrification."
Of course, there were increasing problems with crime and violence in the area, though it seems that crime and culture often walk hand in hand. Back in the 20s and 30s, when cats like Blind Lemon Jefferson and Robert Johnson worked these clubs, crime--from cocaine to larceny--was already an entrenched resident of the community.
Certain neighborhood institutions have survived. Club Dada is one of these. Greg tells us, over the BBQ pit in the marvelously spacious back patio, that it will be around for years to come.
Spent some time thinking about the nature of evil, and its relationship to branding and corporate sponsorship. The thing to remember is that the dark side has a really strong sense of family, and a whole lot to offer.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
[03-15-08]
Austin, Texas
Bourbon Rocks SFXSXSW day party.
Driving into the zone was madness. For a while it looked like we were going to miss the slot, but it all came together, just in the nick.
Is it better to play hungry? Some would say it is, I know, but while our stomachs were growling like lions, I can only wonder if any of that jungle ferocity came across.
We stuck around the scene for a while, eating little pizza-like hors d'oeuvres, and I slipped off to the van for a quick nap.
South by Southwest is an overwhelming sensory experience. Anywhere you may be, suppose even that you were in a van in the middle of a parking lot, trying to take a nap, you hear squealing guitars, thumping kicks, and vocal growls from any, if not every, direction. Every bar, cafe, hat shop, and laundromat has a rock band playing. Playing loud. Some are good, some are not. How does a band come out here playing this kind of music and expect to make an impression? In guitar rock soup, there is so little to differentiate one flavor from another.
After having the line cut off right in front of us at the 2 Live Crew show, the team regrouped and discussed a new entry plan. I realized that I did not want to spend my time trying to hustle my way into high-profile industry showcases. Robin and I withdrew in order to search for a band-free zone in which to drink cool beers.
Found a quiet spot in a 6th street green room and chatted with local bands--ended up watching some music after all that evening, and having a dern good time, checking out a few different parties and doing some accidental networking.
Jerome got drunk, plucked half a falafel from Robin's sleeping hands, then got his own.
Thanks to Janelle for putting us up under her psychedelic ceiling.
Austin, Texas
Bourbon Rocks SFXSXSW day party.
Driving into the zone was madness. For a while it looked like we were going to miss the slot, but it all came together, just in the nick.
Is it better to play hungry? Some would say it is, I know, but while our stomachs were growling like lions, I can only wonder if any of that jungle ferocity came across.
We stuck around the scene for a while, eating little pizza-like hors d'oeuvres, and I slipped off to the van for a quick nap.
South by Southwest is an overwhelming sensory experience. Anywhere you may be, suppose even that you were in a van in the middle of a parking lot, trying to take a nap, you hear squealing guitars, thumping kicks, and vocal growls from any, if not every, direction. Every bar, cafe, hat shop, and laundromat has a rock band playing. Playing loud. Some are good, some are not. How does a band come out here playing this kind of music and expect to make an impression? In guitar rock soup, there is so little to differentiate one flavor from another.
After having the line cut off right in front of us at the 2 Live Crew show, the team regrouped and discussed a new entry plan. I realized that I did not want to spend my time trying to hustle my way into high-profile industry showcases. Robin and I withdrew in order to search for a band-free zone in which to drink cool beers.
Found a quiet spot in a 6th street green room and chatted with local bands--ended up watching some music after all that evening, and having a dern good time, checking out a few different parties and doing some accidental networking.
Jerome got drunk, plucked half a falafel from Robin's sleeping hands, then got his own.
Thanks to Janelle for putting us up under her psychedelic ceiling.
[03-14-08]
Austin Texas
Cleared Marfa without a hitch. Woke in the pre-dawn to get the Sheriff rolling by 6:00.
There is a strange sickness that can enter the mind of a roadbound band: the belief that McDonalds' breakfasts are a culinary achievement to be sought after and savored. Sugar and Gold has, on occasion, fallen prey to this wasting disease of the mind, and likely will fall to it again. At least once a tour, there comes a time when a craving for mace-muffs coincides with a necessity to drive all night or depart well before the dawn. What would you do in this situation?
I guided the wagon into the sunrise, Robin running the maps in the shotgun seat. The other kids, plus Alex, slept in the back for a good 4 hours, while we talked about taboo, anarchy, forgiveness, and the struggle between ego consciousness and the base fears/desires that drive us.
First McD along the path was about to stop serving breakfast when we arrived, they even flipped the menu around as we stood in line. A moment of panicked shouts were quickly soothed by the manager, and we were breakfast-bound.
Rolled in to Cream Vintage around 2. Love this place. Rob runs a refreshing ship during SXSW here, on Guadalupe near 25th, a good stretch away from 6th street center of things. Good bands, free beer, food from the pizzeria on the one side, or the pub on the other. It's starting to feel like coming to visit family, or perhaps I enjoy it as a calm oasis in the maelstrom, a chance to socialize without pressure, for its own sake. Highlight of the Cream day show was Hey Willpower, another San Francisco band of dancing choreographed genius.
Next door at the Hole in the Wall, a little closer to our own showtime, and many beers later, I caught the very end of a set by Woodhands from Toronto. An unexpected gem in the rough and random. This guy was shredding on a keytar.
Pam and I socialized in the back lot of Cream. Hey Willpower played into the blinding sun, unfazed by the open space or impending sunburn. This was the highlight of the day party for me, kids dancing in the heat, the patio of the Hole in the Wall filled with enthusiastic drinkers and cheerers. We went on at 10, on the indoor stage of the Hole. Good times. A few folks who had seen us on previous Texas excursions came out, purposefully leaving the beaten path to say catch the show and say hello.
We never got around to seeing any other shows that night (I was hoping to catch White Rainbow at midnight), instead we made new friends and learned a little about two-stepping.
Big thanks to Elliot, Amanda, Rachel, and Clayton.
Austin Texas
Cleared Marfa without a hitch. Woke in the pre-dawn to get the Sheriff rolling by 6:00.
There is a strange sickness that can enter the mind of a roadbound band: the belief that McDonalds' breakfasts are a culinary achievement to be sought after and savored. Sugar and Gold has, on occasion, fallen prey to this wasting disease of the mind, and likely will fall to it again. At least once a tour, there comes a time when a craving for mace-muffs coincides with a necessity to drive all night or depart well before the dawn. What would you do in this situation?
I guided the wagon into the sunrise, Robin running the maps in the shotgun seat. The other kids, plus Alex, slept in the back for a good 4 hours, while we talked about taboo, anarchy, forgiveness, and the struggle between ego consciousness and the base fears/desires that drive us.
First McD along the path was about to stop serving breakfast when we arrived, they even flipped the menu around as we stood in line. A moment of panicked shouts were quickly soothed by the manager, and we were breakfast-bound.
Rolled in to Cream Vintage around 2. Love this place. Rob runs a refreshing ship during SXSW here, on Guadalupe near 25th, a good stretch away from 6th street center of things. Good bands, free beer, food from the pizzeria on the one side, or the pub on the other. It's starting to feel like coming to visit family, or perhaps I enjoy it as a calm oasis in the maelstrom, a chance to socialize without pressure, for its own sake. Highlight of the Cream day show was Hey Willpower, another San Francisco band of dancing choreographed genius.
Next door at the Hole in the Wall, a little closer to our own showtime, and many beers later, I caught the very end of a set by Woodhands from Toronto. An unexpected gem in the rough and random. This guy was shredding on a keytar.
Pam and I socialized in the back lot of Cream. Hey Willpower played into the blinding sun, unfazed by the open space or impending sunburn. This was the highlight of the day party for me, kids dancing in the heat, the patio of the Hole in the Wall filled with enthusiastic drinkers and cheerers. We went on at 10, on the indoor stage of the Hole. Good times. A few folks who had seen us on previous Texas excursions came out, purposefully leaving the beaten path to say catch the show and say hello.
We never got around to seeing any other shows that night (I was hoping to catch White Rainbow at midnight), instead we made new friends and learned a little about two-stepping.
Big thanks to Elliot, Amanda, Rachel, and Clayton.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
[03-12-08]
Marfa, Texas
small artistic community, pop 2000 or so, with many galleries. Show fell through yesterday, due to a text message from the band we were to play with (properly from the member who was our contact, who was doing much of the work to set up the show), reading "shows off, I'm in flue city."
few fancy phone calls later, we had set up an impromptu show at the Thunderbird Lounge, on the outdoor patio, under the starry skies.
Stayed with Alex, friendly friend from California who moved out to TX some 10 months or so. We had met him in Santa Cruz, at our first show there, at Ryan's 'warehouse' space...
do we add another show in Marfa, or move on to Austin?
Lots of stories about kids traveling through and never leaving town, just falling in love and sticking around. Beautiful artistic community of desert vampires? "Stay another day," they tell us, and it sounds more than reasonable. Will we ever leave?
Marfa, Texas
small artistic community, pop 2000 or so, with many galleries. Show fell through yesterday, due to a text message from the band we were to play with (properly from the member who was our contact, who was doing much of the work to set up the show), reading "shows off, I'm in flue city."
few fancy phone calls later, we had set up an impromptu show at the Thunderbird Lounge, on the outdoor patio, under the starry skies.
Stayed with Alex, friendly friend from California who moved out to TX some 10 months or so. We had met him in Santa Cruz, at our first show there, at Ryan's 'warehouse' space...
do we add another show in Marfa, or move on to Austin?
Lots of stories about kids traveling through and never leaving town, just falling in love and sticking around. Beautiful artistic community of desert vampires? "Stay another day," they tell us, and it sounds more than reasonable. Will we ever leave?
[03-11-08]
Juarez, Mexico
El Paso and Juarez are sister cities straddling the mexico/texas border. In the sixties their sizes were comparable, each being home to 250,000 or so, now Juarez is much larger--I heard rumors that the population exceeds 8 million.
On the TX side, we brunched at Lucy's with Social studies and Mickey, local fella who had been involved with the organization of the Q8 show the night before, and had recommended this spot. Damn fine bloody marys at Lucy's, rumored to have the best machaca in all of texas (can't vouch for it, as I am not eating much meat these days I ordered huevos rancheros with green sauce. The sauce tasted as if it were made with a chicken stock base, and the refried were standard pork lard cooked. All tasty though, and very filling. The server was a friendly, jovial kind of guy, well-muscled, looked like he could toss back brews with the best of them. He asked about my tattoos, showed a peak under his shirtsleeve--bit of smooth blackwork. He said he had chest and back as well as biceps done, told us about Juarez.
"It's crazy down there, after midnight. You should check it out in the day, to see how different it is after dark."
We told him we were thinking of staying the night down there, booking a hotel on the Mexican side, or at least contemplating it, asked about motels/hotels there.
He said there were nice ones, recommended one that I cant remember the name of now, save that I thought it sounded like a casino by the name. The Atlantic?
"are they cheap?"
"It's not bad, like 25 dollars an hour,"
"woah, per hour or per night?"
"yeah, per night."
He said he might try to come to the show, "I could say 'hey, I fed those guys!'" He seemed to get a kick out of that.
After, we drove up into the crackling limestone of the desert mountains on the north side of the valley, went to a vista where we could see the city spread out beneath us, huge flag waving at the Mexican border. Skeletal shrubberies, spiny dry weather plants, stone wall around the vista park painted the color of a deep artificial tan.
Mickey pointed out the Wells Fargo building downtown which housed the cafe wher Omar would meet us. Omar owns the Line bar with his girlfriend Martha. He was to take us over the border, making sure all paperwork was in order and guiding us directly to the customs and immigration agents we needed to see. At the Percolator cafe, we computed and made phone calls while waiting for the Dodos and the Oh Sees to show. Shortly after five, we left, a four-van caravan, the sheriff leading the way, Omar sitting shotgun to give directions.
Border crossing took an hour or two and a lot of psychic energy. It was a lot of work for Omar to chaperon us all over the crossing. Juarez was colorful and wild. Cobbled. Gang dogs with clearly defined ribs and muscular physiques patrolled the streets, investigating food scraps and urine splashes.
The Line bar first reminded me of a particular Centro Socialle I visited in Lugano long ago. That was an anarchist socially autonomous community in Italian Switzerland that had taken possession of an abandoned flour factory, cleaning up the place and setting generators. They ran a kitchen, a bar, had games like ping-pong, live music in the evenings, touring acts and what ever, different events. People would come from all over to eat, have a pint, hang out with their friends, work on artistic installations or other useful constructions.
Line bar was like this in its large open space, rough concrete floor, there was a certain warehouse-feeling to it. A little broken glass on the floor, crumpled cigarrette packs. It was a long room, bar on the right, stage deeper in on the left, about halfway down the long wall. Stage was wide and large, with a drum riser in the center.
They served something called 'chuchus'--tequila infused with a certain medicinal root that grows locally. No on could give me much information about the actual properties of said root. It had strong spice and earth flavors, cardamom, a touch of anise, stronger celery on the finish. Pesos are going for dollars at about 10 to one now: chuchus priced at $15, costs a dollar fifty US. The bar would give dollar bills in change when paid them, but pesos for coin. There didn't seem to be a sign for pesos, they just use '$'.
Juarez, Mexico
El Paso and Juarez are sister cities straddling the mexico/texas border. In the sixties their sizes were comparable, each being home to 250,000 or so, now Juarez is much larger--I heard rumors that the population exceeds 8 million.
On the TX side, we brunched at Lucy's with Social studies and Mickey, local fella who had been involved with the organization of the Q8 show the night before, and had recommended this spot. Damn fine bloody marys at Lucy's, rumored to have the best machaca in all of texas (can't vouch for it, as I am not eating much meat these days I ordered huevos rancheros with green sauce. The sauce tasted as if it were made with a chicken stock base, and the refried were standard pork lard cooked. All tasty though, and very filling. The server was a friendly, jovial kind of guy, well-muscled, looked like he could toss back brews with the best of them. He asked about my tattoos, showed a peak under his shirtsleeve--bit of smooth blackwork. He said he had chest and back as well as biceps done, told us about Juarez.
"It's crazy down there, after midnight. You should check it out in the day, to see how different it is after dark."
We told him we were thinking of staying the night down there, booking a hotel on the Mexican side, or at least contemplating it, asked about motels/hotels there.
He said there were nice ones, recommended one that I cant remember the name of now, save that I thought it sounded like a casino by the name. The Atlantic?
"are they cheap?"
"It's not bad, like 25 dollars an hour,"
"woah, per hour or per night?"
"yeah, per night."
He said he might try to come to the show, "I could say 'hey, I fed those guys!'" He seemed to get a kick out of that.
After, we drove up into the crackling limestone of the desert mountains on the north side of the valley, went to a vista where we could see the city spread out beneath us, huge flag waving at the Mexican border. Skeletal shrubberies, spiny dry weather plants, stone wall around the vista park painted the color of a deep artificial tan.
Mickey pointed out the Wells Fargo building downtown which housed the cafe wher Omar would meet us. Omar owns the Line bar with his girlfriend Martha. He was to take us over the border, making sure all paperwork was in order and guiding us directly to the customs and immigration agents we needed to see. At the Percolator cafe, we computed and made phone calls while waiting for the Dodos and the Oh Sees to show. Shortly after five, we left, a four-van caravan, the sheriff leading the way, Omar sitting shotgun to give directions.
Border crossing took an hour or two and a lot of psychic energy. It was a lot of work for Omar to chaperon us all over the crossing. Juarez was colorful and wild. Cobbled. Gang dogs with clearly defined ribs and muscular physiques patrolled the streets, investigating food scraps and urine splashes.
The Line bar first reminded me of a particular Centro Socialle I visited in Lugano long ago. That was an anarchist socially autonomous community in Italian Switzerland that had taken possession of an abandoned flour factory, cleaning up the place and setting generators. They ran a kitchen, a bar, had games like ping-pong, live music in the evenings, touring acts and what ever, different events. People would come from all over to eat, have a pint, hang out with their friends, work on artistic installations or other useful constructions.
Line bar was like this in its large open space, rough concrete floor, there was a certain warehouse-feeling to it. A little broken glass on the floor, crumpled cigarrette packs. It was a long room, bar on the right, stage deeper in on the left, about halfway down the long wall. Stage was wide and large, with a drum riser in the center.
They served something called 'chuchus'--tequila infused with a certain medicinal root that grows locally. No on could give me much information about the actual properties of said root. It had strong spice and earth flavors, cardamom, a touch of anise, stronger celery on the finish. Pesos are going for dollars at about 10 to one now: chuchus priced at $15, costs a dollar fifty US. The bar would give dollar bills in change when paid them, but pesos for coin. There didn't seem to be a sign for pesos, they just use '$'.
[ Read More... ]
[03-10-08]
El Paso, TX.
Q8 cafe with Xyz Affair, Social Studies, the DA.
Long ol drive from wickenburg. Rolled in about 9:30, loaded right in. Place was a hooka-lounge cafe type affair. We meant to head to the circle k to pick up a coupla beers before the set (no alcohol in the cafe venue), but had insufficient time. Good vibes, friendly kids, everyone was enthusiastic. Apache ran in for a good chunk of the set--they were playing at Zeppelin, a larger bar one parking lot away.
Social Studies were brilliant and charming. Many talented kids in the lineup.
Pam and I headed to the K post performance, but alas, the clock had struck 12 as we entered, and the proprietor prevented us from successfully completing our purchase.
Back to the Zeppelin, Pam started a little mosh pit during Apache's ripping set
El Paso, TX.
Q8 cafe with Xyz Affair, Social Studies, the DA.
Long ol drive from wickenburg. Rolled in about 9:30, loaded right in. Place was a hooka-lounge cafe type affair. We meant to head to the circle k to pick up a coupla beers before the set (no alcohol in the cafe venue), but had insufficient time. Good vibes, friendly kids, everyone was enthusiastic. Apache ran in for a good chunk of the set--they were playing at Zeppelin, a larger bar one parking lot away.
Social Studies were brilliant and charming. Many talented kids in the lineup.
Pam and I headed to the K post performance, but alas, the clock had struck 12 as we entered, and the proprietor prevented us from successfully completing our purchase.
Back to the Zeppelin, Pam started a little mosh pit during Apache's ripping set
[03-09-08]
Las Vegas. Beauty Bar. Half loaded (in the straight and laborious sense). Word trickles down, falls fast. No show. the local band canceled. Who are they? I cant recall at present. Two hours to door time is when the word came down, staff decided to cancel the evening on account of rumors that the local influence had done no promotion and skipped out for a more desired show. seventy five dollars, a shot and a beer, or, in my case, a dewars and soda backed by a Jameson. Thats it. Friendly conversation with Social studies and Master/Slave. MC300 talk. Sequencers turned to ipods. Kind of sad, yet real estate exchanged, feet now placed upon bench or window, reliable levels--the thing is difficult to foil, even by the most determined soundman.
Spent a large portion of the drive discussing artistic method, creation, symbolism, and concept. Sparked in large part by Pam's impressions of 'there will be blood,' something that neither robin nor I had seen, but were both happy to discuss. Las Vegas is way slow on a Sunday night. I think its early, though they were speaking of having us play later.
We drove on to Wickenburg AZ, stopped at a super 8 motel at about 4 AM, wonderful lady named Jean was working the office. She gave us a deal on the room and a few sodas from the staff fridge when I made a comment about being thirsty.
Driving toward Hoover dam in the dark.
Las Vegas. Beauty Bar. Half loaded (in the straight and laborious sense). Word trickles down, falls fast. No show. the local band canceled. Who are they? I cant recall at present. Two hours to door time is when the word came down, staff decided to cancel the evening on account of rumors that the local influence had done no promotion and skipped out for a more desired show. seventy five dollars, a shot and a beer, or, in my case, a dewars and soda backed by a Jameson. Thats it. Friendly conversation with Social studies and Master/Slave. MC300 talk. Sequencers turned to ipods. Kind of sad, yet real estate exchanged, feet now placed upon bench or window, reliable levels--the thing is difficult to foil, even by the most determined soundman.
Spent a large portion of the drive discussing artistic method, creation, symbolism, and concept. Sparked in large part by Pam's impressions of 'there will be blood,' something that neither robin nor I had seen, but were both happy to discuss. Las Vegas is way slow on a Sunday night. I think its early, though they were speaking of having us play later.
We drove on to Wickenburg AZ, stopped at a super 8 motel at about 4 AM, wonderful lady named Jean was working the office. She gave us a deal on the room and a few sodas from the staff fridge when I made a comment about being thirsty.
Driving toward Hoover dam in the dark.
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Welcome to the new SUGARANDGOLD.COM...A forum for all things Sugar and Gold.
In an attempt to create a more intimate and personal experience we collaborated with the good people at Antenna Farm Records to bring you our new blog style website. We will be updating frequently and hope you find the time to stop in from time to time. The site is designed to be interactive so feel free to speak your mind. We have also added a store for SugZ merchandise and will be bringing limited edition music and fashion to you throughout the seasons. Check out our show dates to see if we'll be in your town soon!!!
In an attempt to create a more intimate and personal experience we collaborated with the good people at Antenna Farm Records to bring you our new blog style website. We will be updating frequently and hope you find the time to stop in from time to time. The site is designed to be interactive so feel free to speak your mind. We have also added a store for SugZ merchandise and will be bringing limited edition music and fashion to you throughout the seasons. Check out our show dates to see if we'll be in your town soon!!!
