I first found out about The Volcano Suns through a cover of White Elephant that Arcwelder included as a b-side on their Captain Allen single. I started playing the Arcwelder b-side on my radio show at WRCT fairly often. I only got around to checking out the Suns themselves after a listener called in and requested that I play a Suns song. In WRCTís massive vinyl collection I was able to find a copy of The Bright Orange Years play Jak for my listener.
The point of this little anecdote of musical discovery is that a friend told me that the Volcano Suns (including Peter Prescott of Mission of Burma and Bob Weston of Shellac) were getting back together for a few shows at the end of December. After a little hemming and hawing, I gave in and purchased some tickets for the show. Boston, here I come! Now, the only question is whether to stick around for New Yearís or head back to D.C.
Volcano Suns -
The end of last year's tree trimming party.
Zen and the Art of Linear Programming: Tonight, I walked into my Deterministic Models final exam with the placid, Zen-like calm of a condemned man approaching the gallows. I had studied decently hard, but there was nothing more to be done, I either was prepared or I wasnít. My nerves were calmed mainly by four magic words: Open book, open notes. I think I did well on the final. Well enough to offset my horrible start in the class, which I blame primarily on the 102 degree fever I was running when I took the first quiz. In any case, I found out a few weeks ago that I will not have to take Stochastic Models as one of my three remaining courses prior to graduation, which means I can start forgetting linear programming this very instant. With the aid of the impending holiday party season, Iím sure I wonít be able to remember how to manipulate a simplex tableau by the time the new year rolls around. Bring on the fun, its winter break!
Tally Ho, Indeed: The candidate passages for the annual Bad Sex in Fiction award have been announced and they are as dire as ever. Like Zorro, man, like Zorro. I canít imagine being able to write this stuff with a straight face, let alone read it that way.
Baby, Donít Get Me Started: Two lively songs from the state thatís round on the ends and hi in the middle.
So much better on holiday. Oh well, back to work.
Here's a repeat photo of Lee from his NYC days because I'm too busy to scan in anything this evening. This weekend, I helped him pack up his belongings for the move to Chicago, the latest stop on his odyssey around America.
In addition to helping Lee pack, getting together with friends from out of town, and eating absurd amounts of food with my family, I also retrieved my still functioning Atari 7600 from my parent's house this weekend. Once I'm done with my final exam tomorrow night, I'm totally going to hook that thing up and get down with some 8-bit action. The console still has the Crystal Castles cartridge loaded, and I have cartridges for Centipede, Pitfall I and II, Galaga, Joust, Donkey Kong, Combat, Phoenix, Pac-Man, Donkey Kong and some other odds and ends. The most obscure game is probably Tunnel Runner, which no one I know seems to remember other than my brother and I. I can only describe it as first-person Pac-Man where your primary means of tracking the location of the ghosts (actually the bad guys look like Pac-Man) is an ominous, clunky digital score that gets louder as they close in on you in the maze.
This morning, I heard that George Best has died. If you are like me, you had a medley of Wedding Present songs playing in your head all day long because of this news. Too bad I missed the reunited Wedding Present's show in D.C. earlier this year due to a last minute business trip to Denver. Maybe next time, if there is one. In any case:
The Wedding Present --
Anyone Can Make A Mistake
An old photo from my trip to Boston a few summers ago.
Eric over at Something I Learned Today posted some more Link Wray songs. Get 'em while you can if you like Link!
I saw The Squid and The Whale last night, which did nothing for me. I wish I could have seen Kicking and Screaming again instead, but it's not out on DVD.
Driving home from work, I heard that Link Wray had died. Pretty much everyone has heard Rumble--the first single released by Link Wray and the Wraymen--at some point in time, and knows the sound of the first power chord ever recorded by heart, even if they don't know that it is the pioneering work of Wray.
Link Wray -
Link Wray -
Here's a couple of Polaroids for a lazy Sunday afternoon.
In Canada, milk comes in bags, apparently. That's just so damn weird. Kind of nasty too.
Last week, the costumes kept coming from Clinton Portis. This time, Dollah Bill ran the press conference.
Music for Saturday night: Topless, Mindless, Senseless by Tar.
Walking out the front door this morning, my lungs suddenly protested violently. The leftover congestion that had lurked without disturbing me much over the past couple of weeks stirred, awoke and exited in a series of coughs that must have sounded pretty awful. Damn 25 degree drop in temperature! Afterwards, things cleared up fine, but I can't wait until I am completely clear of the lingering effects of the Martian Death Grippe.
In Dating Without Kundera, Idle Words suggests a host of books by Slavic authors to loan to a person you're dating rather than the freaking Unbearable Lightness of Being. Frankly, I would hope that no one does that, but hey, it never hurts to make it an explicit no no. The only book on his list of alternates that I've ever tried to read is Master and Margarita, but I may have been a bit young at 11 years old. I was probably punching a little above my weight and consequently didn't make it through Bulgakov's satirical novel. Perhaps I'll give it another try over winter break, although Moscow To The End Of The Line sounds good as well.
Jay Ryan has a book of his poster art coming out, so go grab a copy. I have 10 of his posters up on the walls of my apartment. Of the ones in my possession, my favorites are the Lounge Ax blasting off and Shellac besieged by an army of squirrels. If only Squirrels Taking Risks wasn't sold out.
I see that Eric's first choice for a Veteran's Day song was the same as mine.
Mp3s of Roads to Space Travel. Go get 'em!
For your enjoyment,
I Bet You Look Good On The Dance Floor by Arctic Monkeys.
Back in September, DCist celebrated its first birthday. I was there, but I never got my photos developed because I subsequently fell into my 6 week battle with the flu, bronchitis, a horrible cold and yet another case of bronchitis that was triggered by the cold. Well, I finally found the roll with the photos from that night in my camera bag and got it processed. The film grain is massive for some reason and these scans took a couple of seconds, so quality isn't exactly high. But hey, they are just party photos.
Earlier in the weekend, I had hatched a plan for tonight wherein I would go to the Warehouse Next Door to see Big Bear play at 8:30 and then run back out to Clarendon to catch Okkervil River's set at Iota. But after getting only 4.5 hours of sleep last night and putting my knee through the grinder at the gym, I just don't think I've got the vim left to do that round trip. In any case, I didn't finish up my homework in time to catch Big Bear, so I headed over to Iota and caught Okkervil, who were quite excellent, and were able to keep me interested and awake, despite the fact that my body wanted to do nothing more than to crash.
A little music for Veteran's Day:
Soldier's Requiem by Naked Raygun.
I've been thinking about how long it has been since I've been in the darkroom. I actually have no idea. A lazy Veteran's Day off would probably be a good candidate day for a stretch in there, but I'm pretty sure that my only real accomplishment today will be making it over to the gym.
Humanity is erased! Fluxblog posted another song by the A-Frames, who are one of my favorite current bands. Go get it!
The pace is glacial. I'm working my way back into running, but my surgically-repaired knee can only accomodate so much. In addition to weakness from the surgery, it has just been ages since I have run. The last week of April in fact. Even my good knee feels a bit sore the next day because of the long layoff. By orders of my doctor, I'm going to the gym at least 4 times a week to ride an exercise bike (for 30 minutes), use the elliptical trainer (15 minutes) and then run as much as is comfortable.
In need of some work? The Yakuza are outsourcing these days.
What if Clap Your Hands Say Yeah had named themselves after a different graffiti tag?
I don't watch Gameday, so I really wouldn't know, but apparently Lee Corso is a penis.
I got up 30 minutes early to vote this morning. Turns out that totally wasn't necessary. The voting room at George Marshall High School was pretty empty and I was fifth in line to cast my vote. I got to work 30 minutes early. I didn't sleep much or well last night, but I was sleeping soundly when the alarm went off at 6:30, which makes me want that 30 minutes back since I would have filled them with lovely sleep.
In honor of my sleepless night and proceeding along to the other band headed by David Yow, here's
Fly On The Wall. "Back in that room that's not mine anymore/it's possessed by the drone of a monster."
The article in today's Post about kayaking, surfing and swimming in Kauai made me really long for a return trip to Hawaii, especially since I didn't have the opportunity to get off Oahu last time.
Just a random photo of Kelvin from the archives for today's post.
After a day of studying and doing chores, here's a nice, aggro song to reflect my mood: Mary Had a Little Drug Problem by Scratch Acid. If you are a fan of The Jesus Lizard, you should definetly give Scratch Acid a shot.
37. That's the answer to the big question people have been asking me lately. I weighed myself at the gym tonight, and it turns out that I have lost 37 pounds since I blew out the ACL in my left knee in April. When it comes to being fit, I'm in horrible physical shape these days--especially when compared to when I was playing indoor soccer last winter--but man, I'm thin.
I was released from physical therapy on Monday, so tonight I started on my push to get back into shape and jogged for the first time. It was only 3/4 of a mile--no need to push the knee too hard the first time out--but it's a start.
Because I'm in such a good mood this evening, I submit for your consideration
1956 And All That by the dear, departed McLusky. Your son looks like Michael Jackson!