Posts Tagged rockabilly

Let’s Kill Uncle

22 October 2006

CONVERSION NOTICE: This is one of 250+ blogs that originally appeared on MySpace. I’ve done my best to represent it with as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are limitations. Read about it in the FAQ.

Current Mood: nostalgic

I’ve been seeing lots of friends lately, which is great.  I caught the Decemberists with Sus, Orlie, and Nick the other night at the Warfield.  Pigged out at several restaurants including Bugaloo’s in the Mish (that’s the Mission District of San Francisco, if you’re not hip enough to know).  This place was just a few blocks from where Jared and I used to live.  Even now, I walk by it when I go to get a haircut.  It’s always crowded, and it always has hordes of hipper-than-thou indie types milling around out front.  Guys in pants two sizes too small, and messy-haired girls wearing satchels.  All standing around striking poses with cigarettes in their hands.  I have avoided this place until now, but Anna and I went there and I must admit the food was great.  And the staff was nice.  And knowing that I’m so much hipper-than-everyone-there made me feel at least a little better. Indie kid in your tight pants, you look ridiculous.  And comb your hair.  You animals.

Tangent Time: Aside from the simple and clear value system that was prevalent in the (at least romanticized) 1950’s, which fits nicely into my black-and-white lifestyle, another thing that attracts me to the 50’s / rockabilly aesthetic is the emphasis on hygiene.  If nothing else, we’re clean-shaven, our hair looks nice, and our clothes are clean.  We’re presentable.  You indie types, you look like you belong in your parents’ basement.

Oh, and last thing about current events — I had an all-day work meeting on Friday.  It’s no secret that HP is in the process of acquiring my current employer.  You may recall the Oracle-buying-PeopleSoft fiasco I lived through a couple of years ago.  Well this time around, I’m not as in love with my company, and I don’t hate the company buying us, and it’s not a hostile take-over.  I am looking at getting off the road (as I’ve been saying for months), but it will be interesting to see how this whole thing plays out.  I’m actually pretty optimistic.

So I was noticing how my jeans have been fading and I was in need of some new ones (dark indigo being crucial to my afore-mentioned aesthetic).  I went to jean store out on Geary that’s run by a family of very pushy Russians.  They try to sell you world peace, and they tell you you look handsome in everything you try on.  If it’s too small or it’s too big, don’t worry.  That particular style is supposed to fit that way.  It’s all the rage.

Well the point of my story is that I walked out with three new pairs, all different sizes, and two of which were the discontinued-but-ultra-cool “Type 1 Iconic” line from Levi’s.  I guess they’re made to look like a retro-historic design from the past, but to me, they look like little kids’ jeans.  But here’s the rub: these happen to be button-fly.  Now, I’ve never owned button-fly jeans, and they definitely take some getting used to.  In fact, my only past experience with the button-fly, and I’m being honest here, is taking them off of other people.  Consequently, I find that taking off my own button-fly jeans now reminds me of taking other peoples’ pants off, and by extension, sex.  The end result is that I feel particularly sexy when taking these new pants off.

You probably didn’t need to read all that.

In other news, I’ve been getting an increased number of emails from strangers recently.  How did all these people get my email address?  And more importantly, how did they all know I’m impotent, hooked on Valium, in the market for a fast and easy mortgage, and have a pecker that’s 3-5 inches too short?  Have they been reading my diary?

Halloween is coming up, and I’m excited.  I usually don’t dress up, but after the success of last year (Taylor and I went as Wednesday and Pugsley), I am inspired.  This Saturday (10/28), This Charming Band is playing the Rockit Room with Stung, For The Masses, and Japanese Baby.  There will be a costume contest (and TCB will be dressing up as well), so come in costume for this night of Halloween pre-partying and tribute band mischief.

While we’re on the subject, have you looked at our upcoming schedule lately?  The Last Day Saloon, Popscene, New Wave City, Slim’s, and the Troubadour.  That’s a pretty impressive lineup, wouldn’t you say?  And we can thank Nick for booking it.  Fucking rock stars, I tell ya!

In closing, I was contacted out of the blue this week by someone I used to date.  In fact, I’d not talked to this person in about seven years.  MySpace, you are too cool.

“Found, found, found…”

OK, so I actually DO have a stitch to wear…

25 May 2006

CONVERSION NOTICE: This is one of 250+ blogs that originally appeared on MySpace. I’ve done my best to represent it with as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are limitations. Read about it in the FAQ.

Current Mood:  groggy

Not that I went out tonight.  But it’s gruesome that someone so handsome should care.  Today was a day of new duds.  Allow me to explain:

  1. My shipment from Daddy-O’s came in.  Polyester bowling shirts galore.  If you haven’t seen this store, I highly recommend it.  I get shirts there all the time, and for you broads, there are a ton of quality 50’s dresses too.  Those models aren’t too bad either.  (Insert cartoon wolf howl here.)
     
  2. Two Morrissey shirts finally arrived.  I won’t bore you with the details, but the company handling Moz’s merchandizing (Bravado) gave me the runaround twice over.  If they weren’t the only company selling some of these products, I’d strongly advise you to say “fuck ’em.”
     
  3. I got some shopping done today with Jen, my long time friend and fashion advisor.  While we don’t necessarily share the same tastes, she certainly has her areas of expertise.  The fact that shoe and belt colors need to match?  That blue clothes go with brown shoes rather than black?  These and countless other fashion maxims (which seem to be innate to most women) were ingrained in me through years of systematic abuse at the hands of Jen herself.  Thanks!

In case you’re wondering, “duds” is based on like… a real word and stuff.  From the Middle English word “dudde,” meaning “cloak.”  You like that?  I’m dropping Middle English on you now, bitches.

If you’ve ever talked shop with me, then you know how much I swear by Couch Guitar Straps.  They’re the premier designer of vegan guitar straps that look better than anything else out there and are animal-friendly at that.  Beauty without cruelty, you know.  There aren’t a lot of companies I can support so completely.  I use their products exclusively, and they have seen fit to put me on their MySpace profile.  Check out their pictures and see if you recognize me.  How exciting!

And finally, what the hell is this?

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes…

19 June 2005

CONVERSION NOTICE: This is one of 250+ blogs that originally appeared on MySpace. I’ve done my best to represent it with as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are limitations. Read about it in the FAQ.

Current Mood:  pensive

It was 101 degrees in Phoenix when I touched down tonight at around 9.  I finished Chuck Palahniuk’s Stranger Than Fiction during the flight.  That guy’s a certified genius.  I order you to read this book, but make sure you’ve seen Fight Club first.

OK, so three big pieces of news.  The first is that I may have a new roommate lined up for when Jared leaves next month.  An old friend who’s been trying to get out to SF for some time now.  I will reveal our mystery guest if / when it’s all confirmed.  That’s right, bitches.

The second thing is it looks like we (the as-yet unnamed Smiths cover band) may have found our bass player.  That completes the lineup, so look for shows before too long, folks.  Also went out with the singer and his girlfriend and friends.  They’re good people.  And hot.  Like me.

The third and final is that I got tickets to go to Hootenanny in a couple weeks.  No Reverend this time, but Link Wray and several others.  By the way, that is also right, bitches.

P.S.  My birthday is coming up next weekend, Sunday to be exact.  Anyone up for going out Saturday night?  We’re thinking about karaoke in the city or something.  Let me know if you’re interested!

Stop Me If You Think That You’ve Heard This One Before

16 June 2005

CONVERSION NOTICE: This is one of 250+ blogs that originally appeared on MySpace. I’ve done my best to represent it with as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are limitations. Read about it in the FAQ.

Current Mood:  sleepy

I can’t stop collecting guitars.  I have no control when it comes to spending the money that I should be saving on frivolous things instead.  What the hell am I gonna do?  I may never save up enough to own a house, but I’ll be able to build one out of guitars at this pace.

The latest object of my desire is Epiphone’s version of the Scotty Moore’s signature 1952 Gibson ES-295.  It’s fuckin’ gold, and it’s fuckin’ cool.  You may recall that Scotty Moore was Elvis’ guitarist in the early years, and played a guitar nearly identical to this on Elvis’ Sun recordings.  So:

  1. Do I buy it?
     
  2. What do I name it?
     
  3. Does the fact that I asked the second question give you a hint as to which way I’m leaning on the first?

By the way, I found out today that I’ll be spending next week in Phoenix again.  Temperatures are set to be between 108 and 110.  Benjamin is set to be between moderately cranky and absolutely pissy.

Street Cred

23 May 2005

CONVERSION NOTICE: This is one of 250+ blogs that originally appeared on MySpace. I’ve done my best to represent it with as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are limitations. Read about it in the FAQ.

Current Mood:  sore

Alright, alright!

So my friend and former mistress, “Queen” Aki, has threatened me yet again, demanding that I give her due credit for what she helped create. So for everyone to know, once and for all:

“Aki helped make me the cool hipster that I am today. She would like you to believe that I was a total square when we met, and while this is NOT true, I certainly owe her a lot. Most importantly, she was my main co-conspirator during all of the transitionary hair phases between quiff and pomp. So if you like my hair, she is at least partially to thank.”

For Christ’s sake.

The Reverend Saves Us All

26 March 2005

CONVERSION NOTICE: This is one of 250+ blogs that originally appeared on MySpace. I’ve done my best to represent it with as much historical accuracy as possible, but there are limitations. Read about it in the FAQ.

Current Mood:  complacent

This has been the week of me having humongous balls.

On several occasions this week, I have done things that I would normally never do, but I grew some balls and did them. It feels good. I’m not going to go into details, but… yeah.

Last night I had the great pleasure of seeing the Reverend Horton Heat in concert again. We got there a little early, and I spent an hour picking apart almost everyone I saw. They all looked like idiots, save for a few. I will say though that there were a few cool people and a dozen or so drop-dead gorgeous “rockahotties” as Jared calls them. I made an effort to go and talk to those few, and so I met some new people. A psychobilly couple from Santa Cruz and Sacramento were there. I met a group of beautiful girls, who, as it turned out, were not drinking age. Which reminds me, there were a ton of little kids there, some even chaperoned by their parents. Seriously, there was a group of 10 year olds (no lie) dressed in full punk regalia. Safety pins, plaid, the whole bit. It was ridiculous. Their poor parents.

The opening band was Trainwreck, and holy shit are they awesome. The lineup includes Kyle Gass or “KG” from Tenacious D. The front man looks like Joe Dirt and dances like a redneck Baryshnikov. There’s no way to explain it to you in words. Their music was OK, but the quality of the live performance was fuckin’ top-notch.

The middle band was the Supersuckers. Their name pretty much nails it. I know they’ve had a long working relationship with the Reverend, but I don’t see why. These guys are garage band garbage. Bloody awful. They had a trophy on stage, allegedly for being the “greatest rock and roll band of all time.” They asked the crowd, “I thought you’d be more warmed up for us… did you want us to get off the stage for the Reverend or do you want a little more Supersuckers?” The crowd cheered for the Reverend… and yet the Suckers played another half set. Monica warned me about them. Again, bloody awful. They should never play again.

Finally, the Reverend Horton Heat took the stage, and well, it was immediately clear why opening bands are just opening bands. The Reverend and crew are just plain amazing. But I don’t need to tell you that. Most of the people who read this will already know. All in all, a fine San Franciscan night. And tonight, the Gore Gore Girls!

On a side note, last Halloween I saw the Cramps with Jared and Mo. The lead singer of that band got drunk on stage and ripped his latex pants off, exposing a flaccid, ancient penis. It haunts me still. But that’s a story for another day. My point is, one of the opening bands was the Eagles of Death Metal. Basically a Rick Moranis type trying to front a rock band. Between every song, he’d say something like, “let’s hear for the ladies.” So much that it was noticeable and pathetic. I wonder if he got laid that night. The band had two drummers. Seriously. So you might be thinking that there was some cool drumming interplay going on there. Nope, they both played identical beats. Bizarre. Anyways, their music grew on me. I can’t explain it. And I can’t defend it.

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