Friday, April 2, 2010

TRAFFIC, TOY MATINEE, THE TOYS











I have Traffic's "John Barleycorn Must Die" on CD, and a vinyl record copy of "The Low Spark of High Heeled Boys", possibly the worst rock and roll album title ever. Both offer a blues based meets prog platform and a rich, laid back listening experience. I'm also listening to ToyMatinee's one and only album on CD from 1990, a rather bland bit of rock made interesting by some quirky sonic touches, (the sudden clarinet carnival at the closing of "Turn It Up Salvadore"). Lyricist, singer Kevin Gilbert died in 1996 while indulging in autoerotic asphyxiation, the sexual arousal of suffocation. Dude, thanks for the stylish exit. Also, The Toys 45rpm, "A Lover's Concerto", from 1965 may be the first time classical music made it into the popular hits charts. Based on Bach's "Minuet in G Major", which is now believed to be not written by Bach at all but by Christian Petzold, (oh, who gives a living crap) the record is a beautiful slice of perfect melody by the first in a long line of emerging black girl groups. I've misplaced the damn record in my cluttered office space excuse for an apartment or I'd offer a pic of it. Decca? Needless to say those opening Motown-like brass bars leading into that lovely girl singer, -"how gentle is the rain? -" takes me back to the first times I realized I loved radio. If I feel like coughing up the pocket change, maybe you can hear it here. Or better yet, there, at the widget at the top of this blog.












I'm experimenting with web browsers and I'm about to slam my head into a wall out of frustration.








The Toys



Today is Good Friday, that's a good paid day off. Thank you Jesus. The grandest prank ever played on mankind, not! not! that is NOT awesome! Awesome is what the kids at Fatima said - ( I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Oh frickin' persecute me why don't you!) forgive me, I possess the finest of Christian traits, when I die he's going to walk up to me and say, "Good job, man!",.... my faith has been shaken, sucks sausages in hell- i don't know why i said that. I love you, another champale my brow beaten friend? No, i haven't seen john and yes, it looks like rain. I did a play. Langston Hughe's HARVEST at Subversive Theatre. An actor walked out two weeks before opening and I got a call to fill in. That's what I like. No pressure, no 6 week rehearsal schedule. Here I come to save the day. My mediocrity is improving




And I'm writing for Blogcritics.com. Oh, to be an online published writer. That has been my goal in life.



I was wondering what to do with my 3- day weekend, and I'm tired of diligence. I'm tired of grocery shopping, and frickin' laundry and paying bills, and coffee in the morning and a snack at night, of hellos and goodbyes, of calls and TV. I woke up musing that I'd like to see that new Polanski film, maybe go shopping, Barnes and Noble Christmas gift card may be expiring, and then I realized what I really want to do this weekend is get blitzed and hang around home dusting cobwebs or something. Venture out into the yard and look odd for the neighbors boredom. Party out, the ceiling's the limit! If you find me wandering around Dunkirk, point me to my home.