It was all I and others expected and more. Trouble is, it led right into another show, and then another show, and then The Police reunion, which lends itself to severe personal sleep deprivation and all of these other shows left unreported. How can any sane human being keep up this existence! With great diffuculty. Long hour days, no sleep, great experiences, and photos. Who needs a fucking 9 to 5 when you have the rock and roll lifestyle.
The answer is: a sane person looking for a normal life. In the immortal words of David Byrne " This ain't no party, This ain't no disco, This ain't no foolin' around. " In the immortal words of David Bowie, "This ain't Rock and Roll, This is Genocide!" The model that we have developed for the repatriation of Amercan workers has been subverted by the dominant paridigm. Subsequently, the model for normal life has been subverted by the Rock and Roll Lifestyle.
....
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Friday, June 08, 2007
BFD Update
Setup day was fine, beautiful weather, maybe a bit windy, hopefully the Shoreline dust cloud will subside before tomorrow's shenanigans. Highly unlikely. I had to hang a bunch of banners on the second stage today, which acted as wind sails this afternoon. Way fun. Not! Got it done, got to see the band schedules for tomorrow, and it all works out as planned.
Turns out I'll miss Social Distortion and Bloc Party due to another work engagement later that evening, (gotta make a living,) but I've seen Social D so many times since back in the day when I went to college in So Cal, and their old guitar player is no longer with us. Not saying that Mike Ness and company still can't rock it, but I prefer to see them in a club setting, not with 25,000 of my closest friends.
Looking forward to Silversun Pickups, Every Move a Picture, Kaiser Chiefs, The Lovemakers, and of course, Queens of the Stone Age! I hope the Queens translate into such a large venue. Last time I saw them was at the McAfeee Coliseum in Oakland in November '05 with NIN. Man, I love the Queens to death, but they didn't quite make the big time the same way that, say, The Mars Volta did when they opened up there for the Chili Peppers there last year. Didn't quite have the heart to say so, either. Maybe I need to be more brutally honest with my compadres. It would probably serve them well to get some constructive criticism.
Anyway, it will be a great fucking show, and I have been looking forward to this gig since I heard about it initially. This has been a great year for seeing shows, I don't even know where to begin. Best yet: Two nights with The Stooges and Iggy Pop at the Warfield in SF April 19th and 21st! Oh my fucking godhead! I hesitate to say this, as this is all hyperbole at some point, but those two nights could have possibly been the best nights of music I have ever seen! No fucking shit. In my 39 years of existence on this planet. Every other jaded fuck who has seen one million and one shows during our lifetimes said the same thing. When you stand outside of the venue right after the show lets out, because you know there are posters waiting to be distributed, waiting for your friends, and hear every tattooed love boy and girl come out the door exclaiming that this was the best show that they have ever seen, it validates your reality. Even Spin proclaimed The Stooges the second best live act, after U2.
U2! Don't get me wrong, I have experienced a religious epiphany or two after any number of U2 gigs that I have seen/worked. But as for the best live band now, Well Come ON! No fucking comparison. I'll take a 60 year old Iggy Pop full of muscle and sinew prancing around the stage way above and beyond any Iggy wannabe, or for that matter, any other front man in rock, living or dead. Iggy Pop has many imitators, but no equals. Weiland, Axl, bite my ass. Did I forget someone there?
Oh yeah, next Wednesday I get to see the Peulant Prancing Pansy shake his shit in Oakland. Or whatever the fuck Stewart Copeland called Sting these days. I am truly looking forward to seeing The Police for the second time in twenty-four years. It's been a while, can the lads still cut it after all these years? We'll see. I'll give them a chance. After all, I am an equal opportunity blogger.
Later, Tom
Turns out I'll miss Social Distortion and Bloc Party due to another work engagement later that evening, (gotta make a living,) but I've seen Social D so many times since back in the day when I went to college in So Cal, and their old guitar player is no longer with us. Not saying that Mike Ness and company still can't rock it, but I prefer to see them in a club setting, not with 25,000 of my closest friends.
Looking forward to Silversun Pickups, Every Move a Picture, Kaiser Chiefs, The Lovemakers, and of course, Queens of the Stone Age! I hope the Queens translate into such a large venue. Last time I saw them was at the McAfeee Coliseum in Oakland in November '05 with NIN. Man, I love the Queens to death, but they didn't quite make the big time the same way that, say, The Mars Volta did when they opened up there for the Chili Peppers there last year. Didn't quite have the heart to say so, either. Maybe I need to be more brutally honest with my compadres. It would probably serve them well to get some constructive criticism.
Anyway, it will be a great fucking show, and I have been looking forward to this gig since I heard about it initially. This has been a great year for seeing shows, I don't even know where to begin. Best yet: Two nights with The Stooges and Iggy Pop at the Warfield in SF April 19th and 21st! Oh my fucking godhead! I hesitate to say this, as this is all hyperbole at some point, but those two nights could have possibly been the best nights of music I have ever seen! No fucking shit. In my 39 years of existence on this planet. Every other jaded fuck who has seen one million and one shows during our lifetimes said the same thing. When you stand outside of the venue right after the show lets out, because you know there are posters waiting to be distributed, waiting for your friends, and hear every tattooed love boy and girl come out the door exclaiming that this was the best show that they have ever seen, it validates your reality. Even Spin proclaimed The Stooges the second best live act, after U2.
U2! Don't get me wrong, I have experienced a religious epiphany or two after any number of U2 gigs that I have seen/worked. But as for the best live band now, Well Come ON! No fucking comparison. I'll take a 60 year old Iggy Pop full of muscle and sinew prancing around the stage way above and beyond any Iggy wannabe, or for that matter, any other front man in rock, living or dead. Iggy Pop has many imitators, but no equals. Weiland, Axl, bite my ass. Did I forget someone there?
Oh yeah, next Wednesday I get to see the Peulant Prancing Pansy shake his shit in Oakland. Or whatever the fuck Stewart Copeland called Sting these days. I am truly looking forward to seeing The Police for the second time in twenty-four years. It's been a while, can the lads still cut it after all these years? We'll see. I'll give them a chance. After all, I am an equal opportunity blogger.
Later, Tom
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Biding my time...
Until Saturday, when Live 105's BFD hits the Shoreline Amphitheatre. I'm way jazzed about this gig. Some of the newer bands that I like are on this one. I know so far I've written about the oldies but goodies. Occasionally I get to work a gig where the newer bands I like are on. Last time I worked BFD was two years ago, and I got to witness great performances by the likes of The Kaiser Chiefs, Sleater-Kinney (RIP,) The Bravery, Every Move A Picture, Etc. More later, T.
Friday, March 16, 2007
update from original blog
Hi everyone! This is a catalogue of Mi Vida Loca in the World of Rock! Not to be confused with the regular world of rock. This is the dirt, the shit, the info that everyone desires. Forget about Jennifer Anniston, J-Lo, Anna Nicole, Julia Roberts, et al. You really want to know what's up? Follow me into the world of celeb insanity. Pics to follow. I'm not trying to reveal these things. These things reveal themselves in and of themselves. I'm just there to document them. Don't believe me? Stand by and watch. The truth has yet to be told...
Friday, December 29, 2006
It's been way too long since the last post
And I apologise for the delay. I forgot my password and blew it off for a long time, but now with the new format, I can sign in with my Gmail ID and all is right with the universe (for the time being, anyway.)
A shout out to The Godfather of Soul, James Brown, RIP, man. You were too cool for school. An interesting Gerald Ford aside; when the whole Patty Hearst/Squeaky Fromme/Manson Family thing was going on, I was growing up in Sacramento. One of the Manson Family hits was at the Crocker Bank in Carmichael, CA, less than a mile from where I grew up. That place was like an abandoned goldmine for the longest time, no one would rent the space or revitalize it, either. Myrna Lee Opsal was killed there, and apparently justice was served later when Sara Jane Olsen came out of the woodwork and confessed to the crime a few years ago. Strange days, indeed.
Anyhoo, so much has happened lately that I don't even know where to begin. Let's start with awesome shows I have had the privilege of attending recently. Flipper with Krist Novocelic, on bass and out of retirement! My new favorite band Triclops at the El Rio last week and again last night at the Bottom of the Hill, one of my all-time favorite venues ever. Ramona Downey, the booker/bartender, always makes you feel right at home, no matter how long it's been since your last visit
Hooked up with some old friends, would love to post pix, but I got slammed in the pit and my digicam fell apart, rendering its battery and recording chip helpless to the onslaught of feet and fists. Fortunately contentious souls helped retrieve said accouterments, but they were destroyed in the process. Alas, the digital era of the site is temporarily discontinued until further notice.
Now my cat has established residence on my lap, which makes typing all the more special. Poor kitty, I've been gone for four days, she thinks I'll be gone forever, which is pretty much the case. Poor thing can't figure out how to use the cat door to save her life. I tried my best, outdoor cat life isn't the worst ever, is it? As long as the neighbor's kids feed you once a day, you're golden.
Here's some random pix to tide you over, Later, Tom.
A shout out to The Godfather of Soul, James Brown, RIP, man. You were too cool for school. An interesting Gerald Ford aside; when the whole Patty Hearst/Squeaky Fromme/Manson Family thing was going on, I was growing up in Sacramento. One of the Manson Family hits was at the Crocker Bank in Carmichael, CA, less than a mile from where I grew up. That place was like an abandoned goldmine for the longest time, no one would rent the space or revitalize it, either. Myrna Lee Opsal was killed there, and apparently justice was served later when Sara Jane Olsen came out of the woodwork and confessed to the crime a few years ago. Strange days, indeed.
Anyhoo, so much has happened lately that I don't even know where to begin. Let's start with awesome shows I have had the privilege of attending recently. Flipper with Krist Novocelic, on bass and out of retirement! My new favorite band Triclops at the El Rio last week and again last night at the Bottom of the Hill, one of my all-time favorite venues ever. Ramona Downey, the booker/bartender, always makes you feel right at home, no matter how long it's been since your last visit
Hooked up with some old friends, would love to post pix, but I got slammed in the pit and my digicam fell apart, rendering its battery and recording chip helpless to the onslaught of feet and fists. Fortunately contentious souls helped retrieve said accouterments, but they were destroyed in the process. Alas, the digital era of the site is temporarily discontinued until further notice.
Now my cat has established residence on my lap, which makes typing all the more special. Poor kitty, I've been gone for four days, she thinks I'll be gone forever, which is pretty much the case. Poor thing can't figure out how to use the cat door to save her life. I tried my best, outdoor cat life isn't the worst ever, is it? As long as the neighbor's kids feed you once a day, you're golden.
Here's some random pix to tide you over, Later, Tom.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Rolling Stones: Day two
I missed day one, either because I wasn't high enough on the food chain in the Local to work it or I got overlooked. Whatever. I needed the day off anyway to prepare for what is the insanity of a Rolling Stones show and to spend some quality time with my son.
Polite to a fault, the Stones will work your ass into the ground whilst paying you for a chance to be next to "Rock Royalty."
Come on, now, you know I don't subscribe to that bullshit notion, but I must say, for a band as established and tenured as the Stones, they are personally one of the nicest bunch of guys that you'd ever want to meet. If you ran into them at the local deli, they might even kick down tix to their show if they liked you enough. It's just with the six degrees of separation thing going on, they know everyone who knows everyone in the world at least ten times over. So you're not going to get backstage passes (unless you know someone, can tell them a good story, or impress them somehow,) and they've got their handlers to keep the rifraff out.
Amongst other Stones shows, I worked their rehearsals at the Fillmore in January 2000, and man, the day I was a runner for them, it was like someone shot off the starting gun at the beginning of the day and said get them everything under the sun that they want. I literally put over 100 miles on my truck from the moment I picked up their personal caterer at the Embarcadero Hyatt at 6 AM until 11PM that night, and that was just in the 7x7 square mile grid of San Francisco. Granted, I got paid mileage and everything, but if you could see their contract rider, it was a mile long, totally insane: specialty British foods and sauces, a British teapot, fine imported wines, all kinds of minutiae no ordinary humans would require. But realize, this is the Stones we're talking about. They know what it means to be rock stars. All this stuff is a tax write-off for them.
The only other runner gigs I have ever done were for Nana Moskouri and Joe Srtummer and the Mescaleros. Let me tell you, it was weird picking up Strummer and crew from SFO, working the show, then driving them back the next morning. Another story, another time.
But I digress, back to the Stones.
Today was an absolutely physically grueling day. The first day of a "steel call" (to be properly referenced later) is like the first day of school in sixth grade. No one knows anyone else, people are trying to figure out how to size each other up, yet at the same time there is a sense of mutual respect until proven otherwise. Then it's a free-for-all. You either claim your territorial space and prove your worthiness, or you realize everyone else working with you is on the same team and just wants to get the day over with so they can go drink beer. Today was an example of the latter day; there are no saints. Everyone on the call had to deal with the same inclement weather conditions, so we all got over the ego trip first thing in the morning and decided to work as a team. It was one of those days where no matter what tour you're on or high your entertainment industry horse is, everyone got along really well on all levels. And this was, on top of everything else, the day every one's schedule was going to be fucked up for the rest of the week, because Mick Jagger got sick and had to postpone the concert date until Monday the 6th.
So all in all, it was a really good day in the entertainment industry. Pictures to follow.
Remember, don't try this at home, folks! Seriously. Look at the pix I took today. Nobody else you know has these shots. One false move and you're dead. Literally. Here's 4'000 pounds of steel flying at you at 25 mph. Don't blink! Oops! Too late. Here you go plummeting 90 feet to your death. Splat. Don't forget that it's been raining all day and everything is slippery wet.
This is my life. This is what I do for a living. It can be really fucked up. But it can also be the coolest thing ever. You have to figure it out for yourself. What do you want out of life?
"A solid gold Kama Sutra coffee pot,
Or, a baby's arm holding an apple?"
The Tubes, "What do you Want out of Life?"
Polite to a fault, the Stones will work your ass into the ground whilst paying you for a chance to be next to "Rock Royalty."
Come on, now, you know I don't subscribe to that bullshit notion, but I must say, for a band as established and tenured as the Stones, they are personally one of the nicest bunch of guys that you'd ever want to meet. If you ran into them at the local deli, they might even kick down tix to their show if they liked you enough. It's just with the six degrees of separation thing going on, they know everyone who knows everyone in the world at least ten times over. So you're not going to get backstage passes (unless you know someone, can tell them a good story, or impress them somehow,) and they've got their handlers to keep the rifraff out.
Amongst other Stones shows, I worked their rehearsals at the Fillmore in January 2000, and man, the day I was a runner for them, it was like someone shot off the starting gun at the beginning of the day and said get them everything under the sun that they want. I literally put over 100 miles on my truck from the moment I picked up their personal caterer at the Embarcadero Hyatt at 6 AM until 11PM that night, and that was just in the 7x7 square mile grid of San Francisco. Granted, I got paid mileage and everything, but if you could see their contract rider, it was a mile long, totally insane: specialty British foods and sauces, a British teapot, fine imported wines, all kinds of minutiae no ordinary humans would require. But realize, this is the Stones we're talking about. They know what it means to be rock stars. All this stuff is a tax write-off for them.
The only other runner gigs I have ever done were for Nana Moskouri and Joe Srtummer and the Mescaleros. Let me tell you, it was weird picking up Strummer and crew from SFO, working the show, then driving them back the next morning. Another story, another time.
But I digress, back to the Stones.
Today was an absolutely physically grueling day. The first day of a "steel call" (to be properly referenced later) is like the first day of school in sixth grade. No one knows anyone else, people are trying to figure out how to size each other up, yet at the same time there is a sense of mutual respect until proven otherwise. Then it's a free-for-all. You either claim your territorial space and prove your worthiness, or you realize everyone else working with you is on the same team and just wants to get the day over with so they can go drink beer. Today was an example of the latter day; there are no saints. Everyone on the call had to deal with the same inclement weather conditions, so we all got over the ego trip first thing in the morning and decided to work as a team. It was one of those days where no matter what tour you're on or high your entertainment industry horse is, everyone got along really well on all levels. And this was, on top of everything else, the day every one's schedule was going to be fucked up for the rest of the week, because Mick Jagger got sick and had to postpone the concert date until Monday the 6th.
So all in all, it was a really good day in the entertainment industry. Pictures to follow.
Remember, don't try this at home, folks! Seriously. Look at the pix I took today. Nobody else you know has these shots. One false move and you're dead. Literally. Here's 4'000 pounds of steel flying at you at 25 mph. Don't blink! Oops! Too late. Here you go plummeting 90 feet to your death. Splat. Don't forget that it's been raining all day and everything is slippery wet.
This is my life. This is what I do for a living. It can be really fucked up. But it can also be the coolest thing ever. You have to figure it out for yourself. What do you want out of life?
"A solid gold Kama Sutra coffee pot,
Or, a baby's arm holding an apple?"
The Tubes, "What do you Want out of Life?"
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