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:: 10.05.2001 ::

(listening to: Modest Mouse: The Moon & Antarctica)

Use "Hella" like a hefty spice.

Clockwatching again. Sixty-three minutes until weekend fun. I saw the menu and now I'm obsessing about dinner tonight. Goodness all around. Sixty-one minutes.

I have to give people at work a quiz on how to use our loading dock lift. One of the questions says that "If the lift fails to operate, staff should do the following:" and is followed by multiple choice answers. "Crawl under the lift while another staff member attempts to activate the lift" is one of the possible answers. Knowing me, I'd pick that one just for fun.

Thanks to Slatch, I'm now an avid fan of Daypop.

Fifty-seven minutes.


(4:09 PM) :: (link)


:: 10.03.2001 ::

Today is the first day of the 2001-2002 hockey season.

Now that that announcement has been made, I can tell you that I started the evening by drinking a beer, eating a quesadilla, and watching a couple periods of the Colorado v. Pittsburgh game on the couch. The cold fog headed towards the window and it actually *did* feel like time to play sports on ice.

The Biscuit City Road Fanclub, the kind of quality weblog we all should aspire to be, posted a completely, and I mean this, hella rad CD mix on the site. The idea is simple: ask 19 log writers (including myself ) to pick a song, any song, say a few words about it, arrange the songs in a workable order, and voila! Instant mix. Hurry up and download the MP3s before they disappear. Also, get some bitchin I Love Slatch stickers, our fly tour van already sports one, making it the coolest vehicle in Northern California.

The Papa M website has an MP3 up from his forthcoming record. I do have to say, I'm pretty disappointed, the posted song is very similiar to the dismally bad Papa M Sings EP that came out some months ago. I'm crossing my fingers some of the other material can live up to Live From a Shark Cage.

Nevertheless, I'm excited for his show on October 18th. But just as my luck would have it, the new album comes out a day after the show. I can thank the wonderful Miss Rodeo America for the tickets. For my 25th birthday (thanks Rhode Island), she not only got a Papa M ticket for me, but tickets to the upcoming Smog and Ugly Casanova shows as well. Live music is the sweetest present anyone could give.

I've decided that rather than talking on and on about how wonderful the Amscray tour was, I'm going to wait for all the pictures and audio to come together, and put up a tour log page separate from this site. It will take a little while, but the results will be worth it. I first started reading band tour logs on the old Braid website, and have wanted to do one every since.

2001 is year of the spacerock. Too bad my old band broke up late last year. I'm digging that Doves record a lot these days, and picked up the new Mercury Rev in Austin. Time to love the pretty, pretty music.

Speaking of pretty music, I don't like to endorse businesses, but CDnow is having a sale on great songwriters. There's a picture of Bruce Springsteen on the front page, and you can pick up Darkness On The Edge Of Town for ten bucks. Time to stock up kids, see where the rock comes from.

I figured out why that last Jets To Brazil record was so bad: Blake Schwarzenbach is trying to be Bruce Springsteen. It's true, and since nobody can be Bruce, Blake should go back to being Blake.

Downing the High Life, getting ready to his the Oakland Airport to pick up some friends in from Texas for a weekend of, well, talking about music and Texas, and drinking Rum & Cokes.


(9:04 PM) :: (link)


:: 10.02.2001 ::

(listening to: Mercury Rev: All Is Dream)

I keep forgetting to put up the graphic for the new MP3 of the week, so we'll just make a link for the time being.

MP3 of the week: We played with an amazing band at our last show of the tour in Austin called America Is Waiting. Dressed in indie-black and filled with an incredible amount of energy (dancing/jumping off the stage/falling over each other), they rocked the late-late crowd thorougly. I gripped by can of Lone Star tight and hoped I wasn't bowled over by anybody. They sounded like a cross between Fugazi and Drive Like Jehu, and I kept waiting for him to start screaming "Here come! Here come! Rome Plows! Rome Plows! Rome Plows!" but it never happened. I had to satisfy my Jehu craving, so here's Here Come The Rome Plows by Drive Like Jehu.

All chock full of tofu enchiladas and Dr. Pepper at work, grooving on the new Mercury Rev, thinking about pretzels and wine separately but not together.


(2:56 PM) :: (link)