thingfishp

So we're in agreement that Wilco is not a jam band. I love improvisation, but, in general jam bands don't do it for me. I've tried to like Phish, but it just doesn't move me. My brother has plaid sax with them on several occassions and we saw them at the Beacon in NYC, but other than loving the horns I couldn't get it. And they are none the worse off for lack of my support.

That brutal honesty is one of the things I love most about these songs. True honesty of this nature is difficult and rare in relationships. My wife, who is decidedly not a Wilco fan (but, thankfully, indulges my mania), sees this as kind of a "Fuck you!", but it's acknowledgemant of how self-destructive and unself-aware we can be sometimes. It's like saying, "I'll never do that again - until the next time." Knowing it happens and sincerely acknowledging it is akin to an apology, don't you think? Makes me think of the the line in "Reservations": "How can I convince you that it's me I don'

The Bushnell "A Night With.." is one of if not my favorite show so far. We scored Section C, row G on the center aisle ofr this one - woohoo!

All of the above. We saw the busses downtown after getting out of church so we went to the theater and waited on the sidewalk for a while and up came Jeff. We just missed Nels. The other guys I met in the crowd at Solid Sound 1 and 2. They are all very nice guys, graciously agreed to pose for a picture and sign some stuff. I just try not to be a dick or hog their time. They're trying to have some fun, too.

A wise man once told me, "It is easier to ask for forgiveness than permission."

I think part of the desire to meet someone you idolize is the need for some kind of affirmation of self: he saw me, touched me and talked to me, I exist in his eyes. I've met and had pix taken with all of them except the animal on the drums. I'll have to stalk him at the next show, whenever that is. The best by far was the first time we met Jeff in New Haven on my daughter's 13th birthday. I couldn't have scripted it better. We met him before the show and he graciously took some pix (no legs! he was in shorts, out for a jog, and didn't want to show the pastey white February pallor), to

They will be issuing Edison wax cylinders, special collectors edition in purple for which the procedes will go to help sex addicts.

Yeah, I'm dying to hear about MassMoCA; it's got to be the last weekend of July if it's going to happen since they're off to Europe the first week of August. I'm hoping to receive a grant to go study the Pueblos in the Mesa Verde region for the end of June, first half of July. If I get it (notification comes tomorrow), I am so there. Then there would be the issue of getting from Cortez to Red Rocks, but that's a problem I hope to have.

So maybe MassMOCA the weekend of the 28th? Please? My wife will kill me as our vacation starts that day, but what's 2 days out of 3 weeks, eh?

After checking this out, this popped up. THe video is dicey, but the sound isn't too bad.

Excellent. As soon as they announce I'm on it.

I'm sold. Check this out. To my ears it sounds like the love child of King Crimson and John Scofield. http://youtu.be/1HkIb2vTNe8

The award was presented by Melody Maker magazine which hasn't existed since 99 or so. I believe Rory's brother ( and former manager) has possession of the award.

But Rimbaud wrote some pretty crazy stuff, too, such as this excerpt from "My Little Lovelies." I see value in it, but there are many who would say it just ain't art. "One night you made me a poet, Ugly blond whore. Get between my legs, I'll whip you. I puked up your greasy hair, Ugly black whore; You tried to unstring My guitar. Blah! Some of my dried-up spit, Ugly red whore, Still stinks in the cracks Of your breast. O my little lovelies, I hate your guts! Go stick big blisters On your ugly tits! Break the cracked bottles and jars Of my feelings; Come on! Be my ballerinas Just for

Yeah, I was aware of that, but thanks for looking out for my ignorance. My friend Ian Curtin, a Cork native and unabashed proselytizer of things Gallagher, has a beer at Rory's grave pretty regularly (as an Irishman and a guitarist he pretty much deifies Gallagher). The head stone is modeled on an award he received for the International Guartist of the Year award (1972). Yes, there's a statue of Gallagher in his birth place of Ballyshannon (yeah, Ian's been there too), but he's considered a child of Cork as he was raised there and is burried there. Feel free to launch more insults after y

Yes, Cork is not in Northern Ireland - forgive my egregious error, broc. Lighten up, Francis - did someone piss in your corn flakes this morning?

Kind of surprised that King Crimson didn't show up here somewhere. If solo artists are being considered, then Jeff Beck must be added to the list; if not, then the Jeff Beck Group with Rod Stewart, Ron Wood and Nicky Hopkins will do. IF we're going UK, then I've got to add Rory Gallagher.

He was allegedly (according to Belew) asked to join the band at one time. He was an integral part of the superfunk incarnation of the band for sure. I don't see this happening, but I could see Belew doing some shows with the other three.

But will it include Adrian Belew?

Not to flog this topic any further, but I think the brown hat is an intentional mismatch. He seems to have a cultivated slob look most of the time, and you can't clean up too good, ya know. Glen looks uncomfortable but stylish indeed.

http://youtu.be/SmVAWKfJ4Go Trent Reznor wrote this for Johnny; he just didn't know it at the time.

The more-appropriate question would have been, "Is Wilco commercially underrated?"

Has anyone heard anything about possible future shows? The MassMOMA benefit show? Gotta start strategizing for the summer.

Under the couch. There were some dog hair-encrusted Sour Patch Kids stuck to them.

There's a kid from Ireland who works with me in the summer who laughingly tells me, "There's more to life than Wilco. All Wilco makes Georgie a dull boy" if I'm overplaying it, but it's only in gest. Hey, your an intelligent adult, you don't need to justify your tastes to anybody. I've often said that one of the liberating things about becoming middle-aged is that I don't feel the need to explain my loves to anyone. Fuck 'em.