The Moment of Panic

Last night was the big D.iscontent show at the Baltic Room, where Timm and I debuted the live sets we’ve been working on almost non-stop since the beginning of the year. It was a lot of fun, with great visuals, a lineup of excellent DJs on either side of our live sets, and good turnout (especially for a holiday Sunday).

But there was one moment of sheer terror.

We’d showed up to sound check early in the evening, getting all or connections sorted out and hooking up all the gear to our laptops and the mixer. Everything was sounding good, and it was great to finally hear the sets on a big, booming PA. Timm’s set ran smoothly, and towards the end I got up behind the DJ booth to set up my gear next tot he decks. I get everything powered up and running, fire up my software, and take a look to make sure the software is responding to the gear.

And guess what? It’s not.

I restart the software. Still nothing. I unplug my gear and plug it back into the laptop. Nothing.

I turn to Timm with a sinking feeling in my stomach, and tell him he needs to cover for me. He’s a total trooper, so he improvs the end of his set, dragging out his last song longer than planned, with more variation than he’s practiced. Meanwhile, I hit the power on my laptop and begin the long slow boot back into Windows.

When it finally boots up, I plug my gear back in. Up pops a window, asking if I’d like to install new hardware. This is the moment when I reeeeeally start to worry. I cross myself and mutter a few obscenities. Fortunately, the solution is simple; I switch the two USB cables for my MIDI gear and audio interface. Everything clicks. My software responds. Disaster averted. The show goes on as planned. Which is good, since I was one more error message away from committing ritual suicide.

Static Gliding

I should probably mention that a new project just launched. Go visit D.iscontent! What is it? It’s a label-like, crew-like thing founded by myself and Hjalti, where we will be releasing music and gathering together other Cascadian musicians for collaborations, shows, etc. We’re accepting demos if you’re intrigued by what you see and simply must be a part of the excitement.

In case I haven’t mentioned it here yet, the live debut of the D.iscontent crew takes place on May 25th, at Static Glide Part 2, with Miniature Airlines (aka your truly) and Hjalti playing live PA sets at the Baltic Room, with DJs Travis Baron and Levitation Device keeping things bouncing. It’s free before 10, so you have no excuse for missing this. It’s also my birthday, so you have no excuse for not buying me drinks all night..

Static Glide Part 1, featuring Telephone Jim Jesus and DJ Egadz, went off last night, but not exactly as planned. Originally slated for the VIP Room at Neumo’s, the show was merged with Broken Disco at Chop Suey at the last minute. Damn Seattle Fire Marshall, making things all complicated! It still went off well, and hopefully interest will carry over onto our show in two weeks.

The Longest Day

Some things don’t go as planned.

The idea was to go out for a couple of drinks, to wind down and relax after a long day that included a trip to Portland and back for Stumptown Comics Festival. Everything started out exactly as planned. Enjoying some Newcastle, talking life and sports and politics with Timm and his friend Bill at the George & Dragon. the usual football (soccer for you Americans) crowd had thinned out after the game, but soon a different crowd started to filter in. Then flood in. The friendly neighborhood pub was soon filled to bursting with frat boys and sorority girls out on a pub crawl through Fremont. The Britpop soundtrack soon gave way to Gnarls Barkley and Modest Mouse, then AC/DC.

At some point, a trio of dudes (one who was returning to his native Denmark the next day) with curdled Irish Car Bombs joined the table, and proceeded to chug them and try to pick up some ladies. The ringleader of the group was actually pretty accomplished at this, and had soon dragged a handful of blonde college girls to the table. They didn’t stay too long, since the rest of us were busy talking about Scandinavia.

Our little cross cultural experience was fun, but we decided to pack it in and walk up the hill to our apartment around 11:00, just as the frat atmosphere was becoming too much. But we were thwarted in our plans when we ran into one of Timm’s co-workers and a posse of Portland kids who were visiting Seattle and going on their own little pub crawl. We somehow got dragged right back to the George & Dragon, and before we knew it, all but two of the Portland kids had left, and it was last call.

And what do you do with out-of-towners in Fremont at last call? Make a trip to the troll. And since you’re in the neighborhood of an ex, as was the case for one member of our little group, you might as well throw in a little doorbell ditch while you’re at it.

In most circumstances, that’s the point where you call it a night. Unless someone mentions food, of course, and then it’s basically required to take a trip to Beth’s. There’s a 30 minute wait, which means we got to hang out in the cramped, sauna-like gameroom in the back and play Gauntlet until out table was ready. Breakfast (I guess I can call it that, since it was around 3:00am at that point) was a round of eggs and hash browns for four of us, and a twelve egg omelette for adventurous number five, which was almost completely polished off in an impressive display of appetite.

We finally got back home at 4:00am, and despite having had several rounds of coffee at Beth’s, I managed to fall immediately into a deep sleep.

It only lasted about 4 hours though, so don’t ask me how I was able to summon up the energy to walk back down the hill and get my car from where I’d parked it near the George & Dragon this morning. Or how I had the energy to participate in a photo shoot this afternoon. It’s been a whirlwind of a weekend, with a bare minimum of sleep, but it’s been completely worth it. I feel physically tired, but mentally refreshed. And now I’m going to listen to Minneapolis by That Dog on repeat a few times and call it a night.

Checklist

I’m feeling pretty accomplished this week. I finished the seventh in a series of annual T-shirt designs I’ve been doing, finalized a logo for an upcoming project, made some headway on a webpage I’m working on, and gave some critiques on an essay and a live electronic set. In between all of that, I managed to fit in a BBQ in the beautiful Seattle weather on Saturday, meeting some cool new people and their cool dogs (and hanging out on a rooftop overlooking downtown), brunch, too much coffee, and a football game (of the European kind). I even managed to fit in a little reading and a little BSG.

That is what weekends were meant to be.

Welcome to the Apocalypse

IMG_5172, originally uploaded by successless.

This photo doesn’t really do it justice, but the end of the world took place on Saturday night.

My house was overrun with fallout refugees, zombie killers, and plague victims. The only recourse was to drink copious amounts of alcohol and hone our survival skills through minigames.

When it was determined that we were skilled enough to survive, we left the comfort of our temporary shelter and descended upon the nearby Buckaroo Tavern for more supplies and reinforcements, paying no mind to the curious stares of the poor unfortunate souls who didn’t realize it was all over.

Armageddon ended with yellow cake (the edible kind, not the radioactive kind), cartoons, and much needed sleep. Then we woke up, and everything was back to normal. Mostly.

Ich Sein Nicht Ein Berliner

I shouldn’t be here right now.

I should be approximately 5,050 miles away, in Berlin. I should be staying at the Backpax hostel, preparing for a completely debauched and raucous celebration of the New Year. I should finally have a stamp in my new passport, the one that was supposed to be stamped in France earlier this year, on the trip I never ended up taking. I should be visiting the Bauhaus Design Archives, Checkpoint Charlie, the Gainsbourg Lounge, The Holocaust Museum, Karl Marx Allee, Potsdammer Platz. I should be taking notes on cool records shops, cafes, bars, and clubs in my Moleskine City Notebook that I got for Christmas. I should be buying a train ticket to Poland, for a trip through the Polish countryside into Krakov.

This year was apparently not my year to visit Europe though.

I’m disappointed for sure, especially since the reasons I couldn’t make it are so banal and stupid. But it just gives me extra reason to make my way over there during 2008. Look out…

Daedelus @ Nectar

When Daedelus came through town last year, on tour with Caural, he ended up playing a pretty sparsely attended show on a Sunday night at Chop Suey, and despite the lack of bodies in the room, he turned out an excellent, high energy set. I wasn’t sure how this show would turn out; the day before Thanksgiving, one of the worst travel days of the year, bitterly cold. There were plenty of reasons for people to skip out on this show, and it would’ve been pretty shitty for an artist as talented as Daedelus to play two consecutively undersold shows in Seattle.

I was pleasantly surprised when the main floor at Nectar started to fill up during the opening DJ set. I didn’t catch the name of the DJ, but his set of quirky hip-hop and electro was a nice intro to the evening. By the time AntiMC took the stage, the venue was getting to be well filled out. Sadly, AntiMC didn’t really keep the momentum of the evening going, with an uninspiring but mercifully short set of aimless hip-hop instrumentals

But the room was packed when Daedelus took the stage, armed with a  laptop, a controller keyboard, and his famous Monome prototype, a “machine that runs on good will, so make some noise, as the hip-hop kids say.”

Noise was certainly made. He kicked his set of with a reinterpretation of “Pure Imagination,” from the Charlie & the Chocolate Factory soundtrack, and then proceeded to burn through 45 minutes of loopy hip-hop built around samples from old movie scores, samba beats, acid bass, and assorted sonic detritus. It was a similar set to the one he played last year, but way more refined and confident. He’s got his Monome set-up down cold, and plays it like an old familiar instrument. It’s great seeing live electronic music performed with such gusto, and in a way that’s somewhat accessible, exposing some degree of the inner workings to the audience. Definitely cuts down on the “he’s just checking his e-mail up there” jeering from the rock kids.

We didn’t even bother sticking around for Busdriver. He’s good, but I don’t think he could have topped Daedelus that night (as one audience member yelled, before Daedelus’ encore: “I came for Busdriver, but I was wrong!”). And I wasn’t looking forward to hearing AntiMC doing the backing beats. Oh well, it was definitely a worthwhile show, even without seeing the supposed headliner.

Maui, Bitches

That’s where I’m heading. Flight leaves at 10:30. Got In Rainbows all up on my iPod and a bag full of swim trunks and beach towels. You can find me on the beach with a Mai Tai in my hand for the next 5 days. Peace out playas.

Discontent

It feels like Seattle again suddenly. Meaning, of course, that the slightly damp, often gray film of precipitation that we live with for 2/3 of the year has made it’s return, almost immediately after a run of abnormally high temperatures. We’ve gone from sleeping with the sheets thrown off and the windows open, to huddled under a comforter in a matter of days. But on the upside, that means more excuse for afternoon tea and comfy sweaters. And scarves, soon enough.

So this winter has been dubbed the Winter of Discontent, for reasons I’ll leave alone. Though I will say that it involves a lot of tumult and discord and struggle, mostly in immediate social circles, but seemingly in the world at large as well. If I were into astrology, I’m sure I could point to celestial evidence of some great unraveling, puring entropy down upon us. I’m not, so I can’t.

Before we hunker down for a dark winter, there are some bright spots. Decibel Festival is this weekend. I’m not sure if I’ll end up as a volunteer again or if I’ll have to shell out for the festival pass, but either way it’ll be worth it. A little escapism will be nice, and the four on the floor beats and ambient soundscapes should provide plenty. Then there’s Maui. Soon, just a short little hop over and a how-you-doing, drinking Mai Tais on the beach before returning to the Seattle gloom.

Naturally, all of this is just preparation for an even colder and more far flung New Year. But more about that later. Layer up and keep your kettle ready, kids.

Labourious

Despite missing Bumbershoot entirely this year (and thus missing out on festival crowds and overpriced food, at the cost of missing the Wu-Tang Clan), I actually had a pretty good Labour Day weekend.

Friday started off on a tense foot, with our Southwestern friends going through an extended labour before bringing a beautiful baby girl into the world. And what better way to relieve the tension of waiting for those short little Twitter updates from the delivery room than to catch some improv comedy? And what goes better with improv comedy than PBR? Well, I can probably think of several things, actually. And I did hear two of the absolute worst pick-up lines ever. Thankfully, they were part of the show, and not directed at anyone in any seriousness.

Saturday found us picnicking at Discovery Park with some friends before heading out to Ballard for good Mexican food (a coveted rarity here in Cascadia) and cocktails. I have to say that the Hazlewood is one of the coolest bars to visit when you’re in the classy but not stuck up mood, and I’m sure I’ll be back there soon.

And then, for something completely different, Sunday was  the third birthday of one of the most adorable and fiercely independent girls I’ve ever met. Naturally, we followed up that wholesome cake-and-ice-cream affair with our second viewing of the decidedly unwholesome Superbad. Highly recommended. That and Knocked Up (from the same creative team) are the only movies I’ve seen twice in the theater in recent memory.

The extra day of weekend afforded to us in celebration of the American worker (and their ability to organize) was mostly squandered, at least by me. Although I did manage to finish up a remix I’ve been working on for way too long. But now the final file is off for mastering and should be out as part of a remix compilation soon.

Is it the working week again? Already? Well fuck me.