I’m a little piece of leather, don’t you know!

Stella Brooks recorded “I’m a Little Piece of Leather” for Moe Asch’s Folkways in 1940 or so. It was her signature song, and she was given a writing credit. The Beatles supposedly cover the tune during a soundcheck, but I still don’t hear it. More people know the song from the Northern Soul version by Donnie Ebert, like the kids having fun above. I think the Peattie Wheatstraw version pre-dates Stella, however. (Although I am lumping the male versions — ”she’s a little piece of leather” — with the female, or first person).

I was psyched to find Joe Frazier using the term in Sports Illustrated, circa 1970.

There was also for a while a video of a petite female body builder I think from Texas who said she wanted to stay fit to avoid being led around “by a little piece of leather.”

I am also still meaning to contact the band Ballin’ The Jack to hip them to Stella.

I once contacted Gretchen Parlato’s manager to suggest she cover the song. But haven’t really gone into this with many contemporary singers.

Here somebody else put the song to a set of Bettie Page photos; actually I remember clipping the article about the Gretchen Mol Mary Harron film and thinking the same team might want to tell Stella’s story.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dynZH72-uI4

see also, below:

https://markweiss86.wordpress.com/2011/05/27/jazz-funeral-for-stella-brooks/

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Smoke ’em if you’ve got ’em, brothers

(Michael Pitre, of Port Arthur, Texas and The Boom Boom Room San Francisco, 1967 -December, 2011 — he was the guy who could bridge Stephen Jackson with Fela Kuti and will be sorely missed).

David James his bandmate sent along some very kind words and this photo:

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warm weather warning; or war mw e ther ; or wah hoo wah

i heard about your band from dartmouth alumni association events calendar. I am an artist manager and concert promoter, although I am mostly inactive –like a leave term, not quite retired. But I hope to make it to SF (from Palo Alto — 38 miles out — )for your show.

Also, I love the graphic design of all your flyers and such that i see here on line.

mark weiss
earthwise productions and artist management
palo alto
i will try to write about this for my blog, plastic alto

i would buy this — is this 7 inch vinyl? –just for the dogs painting — we likes dogs:

i am heavy into busk. see ICOBOPA above. You can busk at Lytton Plaza!!

the show is Thursday, January 26, 2012 at Cafe Du Nord in San Francisco, with Filligar and Terraplane, and co-sponsored by Dartmouth Club, and close enough to my birthday that I could do a big ticket buy and invite all my friends, and do a Don Burnham I mean Don Birnam binge-drinking “Lost Weekend” thing — my birthday is that Saturday, or at least do some pre-show poetry shopping at Books and Bookshelves 99 Sanchez in Duboce Triangle. Donald Burnham was the 1943 NCAA mile champion for Dartmouth and later a Navy psychiatrist who I corresponded with regarding his coach the late great Harry Hillman. One of the other runners of that era told me that when “Lost Weekend” came out in 1945 all the runners cracked up (figuratively speaking; they laughed) because the characters name — the drunk, Ray Millard’s acting — was so similar to their friend, the straight-laced champion. Pass the fire, pass the skoal, brothers!

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Lisa Fay Beatty (1964-2011)

photo by Michelle Budziak

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Superchunk Meets Dan Pritzker Silent Satchmo Boychik

(Play both of these simultaneous for full FX; with apologies to Ken Vandermark, Jem Cohen, John Corbett, Charles Ives, Trombone Shorty, Ralph Carney, John Zorn “Spy vs. Spy”, Christian Marclay, Mal Sharpe, Charles Mingus “Cumbia and Jazz Fusion”, Wurster and Scharf, Kane and Abel, Stevenson Palfi, Clubfoot Orchestra, Jewlia Eisenberg, Scott Aiges, Michel Hazanavicius and Viewers Like You)

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Superchunk meets Richard Serra

Although I labeled it THIS IS REAL and THIS IS NOT A PRANK,  I doubt the letter I sent to Mac MacCaughan at Merge Records in Chapel Hill, North Carolina will merit serious consideration.

I noticed that the found object and minimalist sculptor Richard Serra has a piece of work from 1967 called “Chunk”. I also know that Superchunk, before they put out 18 cds under that moniker (and 250 more cds by band co-founders and business partners Mac and Laura as Merge Records) were briefly called Chunk. Their original drummer before Jon Wurster was Chuck Garrison who one day, the story goes, found a piece of junk mail mis-addressed to him as “Chunk” Garrison — and that was enough, in the early days of Columbia via Florida via Chapel Hill or what-not humor to get a band name (better than “Small 23” Garrison’s next name post-Chunk). Oh, did I mention that someone else was using Chunk and asked Mac and Laura and them to walk on by?  Presumably it was not Richard Serra.

So several years after having written not one but two other series of fake fan mail to Superchunk, one under the pseudonym “Elton X Smerk”  I think it was — I had to write it down somewhere to be consistent and the other a series of post cards written by me and a childhood friend of Harvard grad and future labor activist Judy Something — her friends were George and Elizabeth from Piedmont; I think she was also a found object artist — I will edit to add their names, if that matters — my one date with Judy from Harvard was ruined because Betty Friedan was on late night tv after we went back to her place.

I only found my way to Superchunk – and excuse me if you’ve read this exact same account somewhere else on or in Plastic Alto — because founding member leaving member Jack McCook went to high school with Jim Yardley at Page High in Greensboro, N.C. AND Yardley went to Gunn High of Palo Alto one year AND asked me eight years later to show McCook around San Francisco. Superchunk did play the Earthwise Productions Five Year Anniversary Show at Cubberley in 1999 and Mac even wore his Cubby the Cub Bear t-shirt the next night on stage at GAMH. I occassionally bother him about other A&R matters of varying degrees of seriousness and we have a mutual friend in Lane Wurster the brother of Jon Wurster, who art directed about 20 posters for me, when he was at Mammoth Records.

I suggested to Mac (or more specifically whoever at Merge answers hand-written scrawled letters addressed to “A&R, Ideas ATTN: Mac” or handles such — I am not actually expecting an answer or response) the following concepts, free of charge.

The letter may not actually arrive in that I sealed it with a piece of (real) graffitti art made from a USPS sticker (by an artist, as in, not by me, but from my collection) — I am a little worried that USPS will start seizing and then tracking down sticker art and mail art scofflaws — habeas corpus is also under attack. This post could, in theory, be the last anyone ever hears from me, because sticker art, as everyone knows is a gateway drug to even more anti-social and destructive forms of mischief and crime.

But if you ever, as I am trying, in my own foice, tapos and all, to suggest, see Superchunk selling via Merge a special synch license dvd with their music — it doesn’t have to be “Precision Auto ” maybe they should save that for a John Chamberlain tribute — matched with the 30 minute version of Richard Serra’s “hand trying to catch lead” or whatever — which was in the same room playing on a monitor with either “Chunk” (1967) itself or  drawing of “Chunk” (1967) — as if someone could tell the difference — then you can thank or blame me. Or it could be just another coincidence.

The gratuitous and deliberate stet typo of “foice” for “voice” and “tapo” for “typo” reminds me that in a letter from Nick Traina of Link 80 he, in my professional opinion, coined a term “soul doubt” a variation of “sold out.” I have in my phone log that I spoke to Nick about booking his band although I didn’t realize until he was gone that he was the child of a celebrity, nor that his band was so good.

I am also, for no obvious reason, jumping from “found objects” to the Jack Hirschman line about “I lost my job but found an Occupation.” Not far from “I am working, just not working for you.” Also close to amazing grace. Not far from Amazing Grease, a a label founded by Mike Drake of Oranger who I distinctly recall thanking me for luring Archers of Loaf to the Cub through the rain in March, 1996. (I’ve mentioned that a lot, too). San Jose canceled the Sharks that night but no one told AOL to pull over and they basically swam upsteam to make their hit.

I doubt or I so doubt (but not No Doubt) that anyone from Merge will (ever) see this so I don’t think I am ruining my own little stupid gag by explaining it all here.

Happy 2012 to Richard Serra, Superchunk and Elizabeth George’s brother I met at the lefty Harvard chick’s party. Harvard chick must be from Piedmont as well; she worked for Peggy Law in more recent years and his kids — she is not Judith Butler, I know that. Also, speaking of Harvard, congrats to Andres Fajardo and Juliet for their little Farjardito, Eleseo, who is a cousin to the recently favorably reviewed in the Times or Top Ten List music releaser Helen Sung, on Sunnyside.

I don’t think the MOMA will let me use the picture of “Chunk” but I do have two videos to imbed, one of early Superchunk hit “Precision Auto” — which apparently features leaving member Jack McCook in the 40R116 — that’s the license plate of William Holden as Joe Gillis from “Sunset Boulevard” his character’s car, the one that is evading the repo men, that he pulls into Norma Desmond’s garage — type role. (Or is that reference too BR5-49?) — and the other someone’s clip of the silent film by Serra; I will stack them below.

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Watching the VibraSlap (Cake on tv)

She parts the ass jawbone with help De Jorge liceada

She parts the ass jawbone with help De Jorge liceada

I caught Cake’s performance on late late television with Craig Ferguson of CBS. The performance is of a new song called “Long Time” notably featuring Vince Difiore on keyboard, a vocal chorale sample, over trumpet.

I wondered what type of analog expensive-looking watch John McCrea wears and uses.

I counted 22 beats from John with the VibraSlap, the pseudo-Latin percussion device modeled after a donkey’s jaw. Once each after stanzas two and three, then a pattern of six, then a burst of 14 going out.

I already own a VibraSlap, by Latin Percussion company, which I bought at Draper’s Music in Palo Alto in 1995, and in fact got to sit in on one song at Cubberley that fall, with Vince cueing me, John McCrea being on his then more customary bajo sexto perhaps or travel guitar. With Draper’s now, like Yorick, –speaking of jawbone — gone into the infinite jest, people can get theirs too at Guitar Center in San Jose for about $40. I called and confirmed that with a clerk (and would be rock star or Cake sideman) named Josh. It’s a great laugh.

John, Vince and bassist Gabe Nelson all wore little caps, not baseball or trucker style more like what I call a Fidel look. I scored one sorta like that at a Michael Franti show. Check that, Vince, who is or was also a clinical psychologist, and played in a band at U.C. Davis with the future wife of Palo Alto High teacher Eric Bloom, Jane, a bassist, wore a beret.

The band’s name uses cake as in the adjective “caked”, as in if you step into a puddle and remove your boot it is caked with mud; not the more direct or common baked good, or so they say (they used to forbid birthday cakes, in their rider, for their postres). Not big fans of Wayne Thiebaud I would venture. For a twist here is Craig Ferguson performance lip-synching with a lineup comparable to that of Cake, instrument-wise:

Tres anos ma’s trade, cakesada De Flores arwen lawrence

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Who can forget those hours that passed like dreams? Sam Rivers (1923-Dec. 26, 2011) at Dartmouth, 1980, 1997

I just spoke to Erik Lawrence, a reeds player who was in residence at Dartmouth in 2005 but has a longer relationship with Williams today for the first time and one of our probably 50 discreet topics was Don Glasgo, the longtime (30 plus years) director of the Dartmouth jazz band. I recall that at my 25th reunion earlier this year one of the 30 or so photos I carried back in my cell phone was of the poster from Sam Rivers guest slot with The Barbary Coast — sadly, perhaps metaphorically, since deleted — of course the actual poster is still there. I hope someone tagged it with a ribbon. Maybe I will ring Margaret Lawrence — probably not related to Erik — and suggest it to her. She books in recent years the arts programming at Hopkins Center. Maybe I can order from someone a copy. Erik Lawrence and I also talked about Arthur Blythe.

My headline is from a Dartmouth song called “Dartmouth Undying”. Also, I was pleased, having written about it, that Dartmouth marked recently it’s relation to Don Cherry with a concert, I saw notice of.

Erik Lawrence’s father Arnie Lawrence was a founder of the jazz program at The New School in New York. I figure our 63 minute session on the phone today was a type of social research. The writer of the below interview it seems is now a Wall Street type, but probably still knows more jazz than I do.

Regarding the fact that most Dartmouth jazz musicians go on to other fields, such as medicine, Lawrence related a story, by Lester Bowie I think he said, about how if Glasgo ever ends up on an operating table he will be glad that his surgeon may have once studied how to improvise.

(from The Dartmouth, also known as The Daily Dartmouth, or The D, for whom I wrote about 100 stories between fall of 1982 and spring of 1986 and was day editor, assignment editor, reporter training chief, sports editor, Literary Director, and for 10 weeks while the actual dude or chick in this case was schlepping for then Governor Bill Clinton of Arkansas, acting Managing Editor, and member, Board of Proprietors — but I think I only wrote one story about music, about a classical musician named I think Santiago Romero)

Saxophonist Sam Rivers discusses his life and his music
The jazz great will perform with the Barbary Coast at a concert celebrating 20 years under Don Glasgo’s direction
By Aditya Dutt
Published on Friday, February 7, 1997

Jazz great Sam Rivers will perform with the Barbary Coast, the College’s jazz ensemble, as well as with his own trio Saturday night at 8 p.m. in Spaulding Auditorium.

Rivers, who brings a diverse range of musical experience to the stage, has done it all — from playing with pianist Bill Evans to filling the tenor chair in Miles Davis’ quintet in 1963.

Even at 73 years of age, Rivers continues to break new ground in jazz and has indeed established himself as a unique voice in contemporary music. In an interview with The Dartmouth, Rivers discussed his development as a musician as well as his thoughts on the direction jazz is moving in today.

The Dartmouth: How would you describe the character of your music — as improvisational music with or without structure?

Sam Rivers: Well, we [the trio] try to cover the whole spectrum, so we do a lot of stuff that is just completely creative and then we’ll do music with changes, chords — something with harmonic variation. And then we’ll do purely improvisational music — and improvisation is a strange word for me because it means that you improvise with some kind of structure, and that’s something we do. But we also create with no structure, so you really can’t call it improvising. It’s just sort of a creative process. And I guess that’s my main contribution to American music — jazz music.

The Dartmouth: So your model for “free jazz” or creative improvising — is that in the same vein as Ornette Coleman’s or Don Cherry’s or Pharaoh Sanders’?

SR: I think it’s a little further advanced than that because, like I said, they were improvising on structures. I did some stuff, like “Streams,” which is just the trio and we just played together. But you do have to be a musician of some years of training in order to do this. I mean it’s not just an overnight kind of thing because it’s a combination of classical music and jazz and blues.

The Dartmouth: Tell us a bit about your background: how you started playing, your musical education and, basically, your development as a jazz musician.

SR: Well, my mother and father were musicians and they were coming up in Chicago, so I pretty much spent my younger years in Chicago. And while I was in school, I used to play the organ for mass. And I played in high school — in a band where the senior students used to teach all the younger students. And we had a big bandroom full of instruments, so if anyone wanted to play a instrument, they could just choose. So I picked up the trombone first and I didn’t like that so much so I went back and got the soprano saxophone, and then went back to trombone. Then, when I got out of high school, my college band didn’t have a saxophone player. And they wanted someone who could solo and I could solo but the tenor saxophonist couldn’t solo. So I started on tenor that way. So in the navy, I didn’t play because the band wasn’t too good. I was playing the whole time but I just didn’t play in the band.

The Dartmouth: So did you start studying at the conservatory after the navy?

SR: Well I went up to the Boston conservatory and I was already a musician — I already knew I wanted to do music. I was playing clubs at night and in Boston at the time, there were a lot of musicians who were studying, like Jaki Byard and Gigi Gryce, Quincy Jones, Alan Dawson.

The Dartmouth: So just place this in a time context — was this in the ’40s?

SR: Yeah, this was late ’40s — that’s when I heard about Dizzy Gillespie and Charlie Parker. And I enjoyed that music very much and I was playing things that were similar to bebop but we hadn’t really heard of bebop at the time. I heard them in the navy when the record companies distributed their 12-inch discs to the services. And while Dizzy and Charlie Parker were around in New York, Boston was a very, very creative and fertile scene.

The Dartmouth: What was the direction your music was going in at that time?

SR: Bebop, definitely. But I was also in school studying Stravinsky and Mozart and Bartok. I studied during the day and played jazz at night. And a lot of what I was hearing at the time was far out. And that’s an acquired taste — you just don’t jump up and say, ‘Oh, that music is great!’ — if you like it, that’s great. But if it is serious music, where you are trying to communicate something, it’s not that easy for your ears to get used to it.

edit to add: a Don Glasgo post fixing the date as 1980 summer for his residency. I guess the guest appearance in 1997 was a reprise but perhaps not as intense. Now I don’t recall whether the poster was for the former or the latter:

Nice to see Sam’s name come up. I had him up at Dartmouth as a guest artist
during the summer of 1980. It was a great residency, culminating in an
incredible three-hour concert (first hour consisted of Sam playing standards
with the Barbary Coast Jazz Ensemble–the student jazz ensemble at Dartmouth
which I direct; second hour consisted of the Coast playing an hour-long suite
of Sam’s called “Shades,” with Dave Holland and Warren Smith sitting in; third
hour was a trio with Sam, Dave Holland and Warren Smith–amazing!!!!)

edit to add: The one arts story I wrote was about Santiago Rodriguez, a classical pianist who won second place in the 1981 Van Cliburn contest. My story was actually about the experience of going backstage with Brian Moore just to be sneaky and chatting ex parte with the artist and his actual fans. Also, I was telling Tommy Jordan that Jim Newton, Eisenhower’s biographer, LA Times Editorial Page Editor and my editor at The D has big ears and wrote a review of NRBQ and also would sneak Elvis Costello lyrics into the agate type and news digest headlines. Tommy and Jim went to high school together. Rodriguez story reminds me that my Dartmouth classmate Melinda Lopez has a play “Sonia Flew” I caught at San Jose Rep about escaping Castro’s Cuba — could she also have seen or met Rodriguez at Dartmouth; he was sent from Cuba to an orphanage in New Orleans in the 1950s.

Dartmouth Undying” was written by Franklin McDuffee, ” ‘ 21 ” I believe that is referring to his class, 1821; the college dates to 1769. It is more likely that the song was taught to 190 classes of Dartmouth men and women and not merely 90 classes of us. He was a peer of Stephen Foster not Cole Porter. I wonder however if the be bop jazzbo’s who came through Hanover, first as part of Brown vs. Topeka kind of thing — Don Cherry, Willie Ruff, Lucky Thompson, — ever tried to riff on these old songs. I said to Austin Willacy regarding Dartmouth Aires recently on tv, and their version of Queen “Bohemian Rhapsody” that I would like to hear a mash up of “Radio Gaga” and “Dartmouth Undying”.

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Rm 222 (KFlay v. KVal)

This is the two-hundred-twenty-second post of mine on wordpress under the moniker “Plastic Alto”.

I am with Toure of the Times in that I think K.Flay could eat Kreayshawn’s lunch (but would not eat her East Bay under-educated, under-seasoned, how does that Creole Rapper I mean Zydeco Squeeze-Boxer, say it, “pussiere”?)

“Room 222” was a network tv show back in the day, in my youth, about high school. Kinda like “Welcome Back, Kotter”? I don’t recall.

Room 100 is British slang for bathroom. Like the word “loo”. I have a post about Kent Lockhart and how they should rename various parts of Stockton Park or Seale Park for him. See “The Lockhart Loo”.

The Donnas’ Moms and Dads turned out Cubberley as a music venue, and then they posed for a major indie magazine spread in the Cubberley bathrooms, although they stopped playing Cubberley once they got to 924 Gilman, despite my entreaties. I also lobbied for them to be included in The Fillmore Sessions, and got BGP Management intrigued enough in their story that someone there interceded to get Allison Robertson’s guitar worked on by Carlos Santana’s shop in time for her to go back out on the road, to Europe, if memory serves.

Two days ago at Lytton Plaza I jammed with a dude named Mike who said he went to Cubberley. (Mike the drummer, who paints nudes onto the side of his conga).

I don’t think Cubberley had a Rm 222 — I think it had a different system.

I never watched Beverley Hills 90210 although I know that Blind Boys of Alabama once played there; if I cared more I would make a list of ten fictitious high schools.

Oh, King Dork!!! (A combination of Hillsboro High and Mills High — I will edit to add).

I just wanted to do something with the 222. I can factor it pretty simply: 2 x 3 x 37.

I am filing this under “math” and “media”.

This is actually indebted to Dr. Brian E. Moore of Springfield, Illinois, who is indebted to Aiden Vizari of the Chron, but “I am with Toure of the Times in that I think K.Flay could eat Kreayshawn’s lunch (but not her East Bay under-educated how does that Creole Rapper I mean Zydeco squeeze-boxer, say it, “pussiere”); to wit

end quote, or air quote and snaps. ”

p.s. i am leaving this with labels “math” and “media” because I read somewhere that KFlay got a 750 on her math SATs, and maybe studied at Stanford with Paul J. Cohen.

edit to add, 30 seconds later: if L7 means “square” but is also a groundbreaking chick band, then maybe “Rm 222” could be something derogatory or inflagrating that one chick rapper could throw at another as an insult or challenge, like that is so juvenile and under-evolved. But I would like to see KFlay if she is reading this, maybe she could remix Rosie Ledet and dedicate it to Kreayshawn:

Here is the Times joint, from 12/23, it’s like so six days ago, and the dude says KFlay is better than Kreayshawn. Word. Coinkydinky I am wearing a Dessa shirt today. I think I met Dessa from Doomtree or at least took a cellphone photo of her, along with Ted Leo, at Macalester College in St. Paul, I was walking from a screening of Coen Brother’s “A Serious Man” to the old school bowling alley (pictured on my Plastic Alto nameplate) in fall, 2009 for my cousin’s bar mitzvah; his band at the time was called Souldiers, although I suggested changing it to Mouldiers, for Bob Mould, who I have never met, unless it was one of those nameless quick exchanges at The Stud. He might have been the guy who whispered to me “Hold my pickle, hold my lettuce, special orders don’t upset us. My safe word is “Macalester College.” Which was most people’s safe school. But not KFlay. She got in.

I am generally not this “with it” and generally not as happening as that fall day in St. Paul. Just lucky sometimes.

Rm 222.

edit to add, like two minutes later, although Frida the Cockerspaniel is still moaning that she wants her morning walk:

wiki says “pousiere” means “dust” or “speck” — I guess I have a dirty mind to think it has something to do with girl pleasure, the Rosie Ledet song. In this case it calls to mind Bill Rose’s doc “This Dust of Words” about Stanford grad Elizabeth Wiltsee, her prof Felstiner and mental illness. I would like to see KFlay remix that(Rosie, not Wiltsee), maybe with help from MC Lars, who played with Allison Robertson or was that just Brett Anderson, going back to the Donnas. I would venture that KFlay is as brilliant as Wiltsee; we hope she sticks around longer.

I guess you could read this as “rim 222” as in rim shot, when I drummer highlights a bad joke. Rm 222. Bob Mould would probably call this “rim 222.”

edit to add, about a minute after that, it is now 9:40 Thursday morning, only like 7 hours till 4:20 but for me 9:40 means I am jonesing for Coupa or Philz: KFlay already did do a version of Elizabeth Wiltsee story, about two years ago, in her send-up of Cee Lo and dem, “Crazy” (and by the way, just having seen “Kung Fu Panda” on cable, I like the origi of “Kung Fu Fighting” by Carl Franklin way better than the Cee Lo):

this also reminds me that my DF correspondent Guillermo Gomez Abascal tells me that there was a Mexican rock band, femme fronted, called Tabasco but were forced to change their name by the corporate thugs at McIlhenny, which is enough to make me, like Papa Mali, switch to Louisiana Red Dot. And that also makes me want to shout to Arienne Landry of Just For You in SF Dogpatch who I put briefly two days ago during the rush on the cell with Ann Allen Savoy in Lafayette, Louisiana in the 337, talk about flavor!!!!

edit to add: K.Flay will appear at Treasure Island festival Oct. 13, 2012. Also, it turns out that Bob Mould actually did attend Macalester College although I’ve never met him nor actually seen him play. But I would say despite my nutty professions here, I mean him no disrespect and would say I am a fan. What would a K.Flay/ Bob Mould joint be? The only connection being the people who manage Bob also co-produce Treasure Island. Think about it, guys. Oddly, as I backtracked to re-title this (from “Rm 222” to “Rm 222 (KFlay v. KVal)”, I realized that I am now up to 444 posts, so this is halfway there.

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Tommy Jordan sits in with Beat Hotel Rm 32 Reads ‘Howl’

Mark Weiss reads "Howl" at Lytton Plaza photo by Tommy Jordan

I don’t know if the 20 second video that Tommy Jordan sent me of the last bit of what was a 25-minute performance today at Lytton Plaza will upload properly to this wordpress substrate. The bit is me reading the dateline of Allen Ginsberg’s “Howl”, it says “San Francisco 1956-1957” and I improvise by adding “Palo Alto” just as I previously substituted “Lytton Plaza” for “Union Square” as was written — and I also switched sound effects for choice “blue language” like as in “mother finally ******” maybe three times — there is a code among street performers not to use explicit language, at least according to what seems to be a healthily vetted article on wikipedia — and I added “2011 and two thousand twelve” all the while I was trying to sing the lines to the melody and intonation of “Star Spangled Banner” — I am off but in defense of my lameness Tommy and the other two musicians were probably playing a different key. I think I did a bit of “America The Beautiful” directly above this moment. I was thinking of Rene Marie doing “Lift Every Voice” to melody of “Star Spangled Banner” in Denver — N.C. was in Denver, right?.

Most of the reading was just a straight read. I used, for the very first time in about five or six performances, a talk mike. Street bluesman Dave Hidie was doing his normal bit, with a percussionist named Mike, who said he was a Cubberley grad, and agreed to yield for 25 minutes then even better, after he met Tommy, agreed to let us use his rig then ended up joining in. Tommy said it was the best “Howl” reading he had ever seen. He also said he just got back from Glastonbury backing a performance poet whose name I did not catch. I told him about the Casti grad at Duke who is a Francophile and International Studies major I met at Keeble and Schuchat and is looking into careers in music. He made a note. We also talked about Patti Smith “Just Kids” and the Ginsburg cameo. He buys her a sandwich and then laments out loud that she is a chick. The word “chick” here is probably my wording but I am thinking of posting or just did actually the scene from “Portlandia” where Carrie Brownstein as I guess Nance and Fred Amisen are ordering chicken and get briefed on the lifestyle of the little guy or chick who committed to their enjoyment, as the old saw goes. (“the difference between ‘committed’ and ‘involved’ is like the ham and eggs breakfast where the pig is committed and the chicken is involved”) Tommy liked my little mic check ad lib and said I should try writing poetry someday. When I said I have posted 219 times on my blog he was surprised that I had abandoned so much of my Ludditism. I said I still don’t own a computer but use the library and my lady’s rig. Thinking back, it was probably Tommy who said “Dude, you’d be the sick blogger type” back when I was hardcore straightedge X to blogging. The dude Michael from Cubberley said that he too worried during those years that they would drop the bomb on us, like I was describing the context of “Howl” to those gathered, the musicians and a lady with midriff showing, who knew Hydie.

I texted about 40 people about this rather impromptu gig and got about five responses.

nope. not permitted.

I will bump to Tommy and Greg Kertsin doing their big hit and then to Rene Marie bit, although I should also give props to bumcello.

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