Sunday, February 28, 2010

Breathing

Sleeping more lately, re-disorganizing, napping...
Winter is waning, we'll see what's next.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Thursday shall rock once again.

Last Thursday for awhile!!!!

Come on down to the Dixon Place Lounge for a warm and toasty evening of tunes and hospitality.

It's been a fun run of my favorite tunes. Come down to catch the last one, it will be a toasty evening of music and hospitality. I'll be joined by the amazing Randy Hudson with some tuneful ebowness.

Last show for now!

Thursday, THURSDAY! Music starts at 7pm.

I'll be at:
The Lounge at Dixon Place
161 Chrystie Street
7 till 10, more or less
Thursday 2/25
No cover, no begging, no catch, naturally!

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Post Blizzard Happy Hour!!!!

Come on down to the Dixon Place Lounge for a warm and toasty evening of tunes and hospitality.

Perhaps you were trapped at home for two days, you colored the book and played hide and seek with the children until you practically bled. Or maybe you're getting a touch of cabin fever with your mate or solo. Bring the family and Carm will rock out for the grownups and do Animal Fair for the kiddies. If need be we'll send out for pizza. Carmen plays until you can't stand it, just like always.

I'll be joined by the amazing Randy Hudson and Anthony Liberatore on guitars and singing. Three way? Or just a trio?

Don't miss out, don't despair, don't disappear! Only two more shows to go for now. Be there and be square! Be fair! Be aware! Whatever!

Thursday, THURSDAY! Happy hour 6-7. Music starts at 6:30.
Come early for drink specials.... Happy Hour 6-7pm: $1 off everything, plus $5 special cocktails!!!

I'll be at:
The Lounge at Dixon Place
161 Chrystie Street
6:30pm until 9:30, more or less
2 Thursdays left - 2/11 & 2/25
No cover, no begging, no catch, naturally!

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Thursday is the new Friday

Work is a workweek work is a blind slide that startsonmondaystopsonfriday if i'm lucky, life is a workweek, life is life, life is a big fast car flying down a one lane blacktop, flying, swooshing, sighing by like a thing you did but don't clearly recall, like a memory you haven't had yet, just yet, life is the car, destiny is the road, work is the engine, money is the fuel

At night not every night, some evening, not every evening there is a thing, a pause, a RECALIBRATION a stutter, a skip in time, a break a THEFT...

The email is abandoned, the duty lost, the phone as if ripped from the socket on the wall in a horror film, the life, the way, the assumed thing is torn from existence

A nylon bag, black, obscure, ignored in the corner of the day.

A box, vinyl clad, dusty, harsh in its promise.

The box plugged in, the bag unzipped, a stand, an instrument, a guitar!

Plugged in, placed in the stand, stand, the last. Stand.

And then:

Music, possibly. Tentative, shy, people are leaving the building, I pick up, I hold, I pick, the pick...

Open the book, flip pages back, forward, deliberating, act of choosing and then...music, really.

The hand searches, the hand strums, with pick or sans pick. A familiar scale, an intimate riff, the warm up, the approach. And then a little voice. Shy, tentative, air crawling gently over chords, vocals, voice ashamed of itself, voice and then voice with guitar. Song. Songs! Familiar songs from the place, the home, the nest, the book. Singing more rightfully now with the guitar, a song, another song, another and another and now let's play the harmonica too. Simple and there.

Music filling up, life making way, music coming in, music occurring. It's Tuesday, let's work it, it's Wednesday, let's practice it, it's 10pm, we can stop now. It's ok, we can stop, its midnight, we can pause. I can stop today, even though its not today anymore.

Pack it up now. Carefully, each harmonica in it's little case, the rack folded and stowed, the picks and capo in the little knit bag, the tuner and the bag and the rack and the encased harmonicas in the zipper bag on the outside of the case, the guitar in the case, the cable in the other zipper bag, the amp turned off, the guitar in the bag in the office, the light's turned off, the door closed, the brain turned off, the subway ride home, alone, reading to distract, distract productively, without my guitar and without my amp, they are parked and undeployed in my office, ready for any thing, ready for tomorrow.

Tomorrow is Thursday.

I'll be at:
The Lounge at Dixon Place
With Randy Hudson joining me on guitar.
161 Chrystie Street
7pm until 10, more or less
Three more Thursdays - 2/4, 2/11, 2/25
No hat, but I may pass the cover