Friday, May 28, 2004 at 11:32:44 (EDT)

They say I gotta get myself a chaperone
You ever have that feeling, when you know that the slightest provocation is gonna get you in really hot water fast ... but you still do it anyway?

Words cannot express how pleased I am that I do not have to work on Monday. I hope none of you have to work on Monday, either. Special kudos to those of you who will have Monday off AND still get paid for it.

Oh, and in case you didn't see it: my bar write-ups are indeed in the 2004 Summer Guide, only in the print edition. Take a look and see if I captured the essence of your favorite watering hole. Or hell, here's the whole thing.

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Wednesday, May 26, 2004 at 13:44:52 (EDT)

Read the papers the headlines say washed up rapper got a song
Does anybody out there ever pick up a paper copy of the New York Press? The 2004 Summer Guide should be in this week's issue, which is supposed to include my brilliant bar blurbs. But of course, I haven't left the house yet and my day job is trying to remove my last vestiges of enjoying being alive.

But I have checked out the NYP website, but I don't see anything remotely related to all the work I did; in fact, there isn't any mention of bars at all. Now I know that not only is the website sort of haphazardly maintained, but they sometimes purposefully leave stuff out of it to encourage people to pick up physical copies of it. I guess they figure nobody's gonna call the sex listings in the back if they can already get all the porn they want online. So maybe my stuff is in the print version. Or maybe they just scrapped the whole thing to make more room for Rehabilitating Mister Wiggles. I can live with that.

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Monday, May 24, 2004 at 16:51:00 (EDT)

You won't remember why you liked them
Hey look! Motico got a good write-up in Left Off the Dial for our EP! The reviewer seems to think our lyrical content could improve (eh, but who can understand what we're saying anyway?), and also has the mistaken notion that I sound like the nasally guy from They Might Be Giants, but it's mostly complimentary. It's cool that we just recorded it ourselves, got Abby to donate her artwork for the label/inserts, and had copies run off up the street. Still, I guess the dream is to have somebody else foot all the bills and do all the heavy lifting so we can focus on producing the creamy rock goodness that we churn out so well. Hmm, that's nasty. Sorry.

If you haven't heard it yet, our CD is still available, if you ask us nicely and pay us five bucks.

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Monday, May 24, 2004 at 11:41:59 (EDT)

Open your mouth, let the shit come out
We saw the Magnetic Fields on Friday at Town Hall. This kind of place is way bigger than I like to see live music, but in the case of this particular band, I can make the exception. Not only that but we literally had front-row seats, thanks to a friend who had thoughtfully bought up extra tickets when they were first made available. Even though he was quick on the draw, I'm still sort of surprised we got such good tickets, since I always assume the best seats are bought up immediately by membership groups or ticket brokers or scalpers or somebody else who wants to get over on the concert-going public. But maybe I overestimate the drawing power of Stephin Merritt and his pals.

Merritt has been having some kind of ear malady, so Claudia asked the audience not to applaud too loudly. Rather, she suggested we snap our fingers beatnik-style, and hiss (but not in the malevolent way, you know). The result was similar to one of those rain stick things that are fun for like a minute and then are useless. So they did a lot of stuff off their new album i which I regret to admit I still do not own. They played a bunch of stuff I recognized, free from the constraints of the last tour in which they had to play a given 60 Love Songs CD in order. I never realized it, but "Papa Was a Rodeo" seems to be universally adored. Everybody went nuts when they started into it. Well, not really. But the hissing was exceptionally intense for a moment.

The opening act was Andrew Bird, who I didn't know at all. But he played a violin into a delay pedal, then played over the resulting loop with either the violin, guitar or glockenspiel. This sort of limited the structure of his songs a bit, but it was pretty cool what he was able to do. At times he played the violin like a guitar, or ran an octave pedal through it to suddenly give it a cello's depth. And his lyrics were pretty smart too. It made me really wanna get a delay pedal and start up the one-man band.

Sadly, Lemony Snicket was not performing.

Saturday was another drunken evening at Lit with The Means and The Giraffes. Somebody must have fallen down Lit's narrow staircase recently because some poor guy had to stand at the top all night long warning people about the first step. How do you warn somebody about a step? "Watch out! First step!"

Jason of the Means was in rare form; at some point he grabbed some unassuming older guy off the street and forced him to answer a bunch of philosophical questions. It's a sign of a real New Yorker when such a middle-of-the-road kind of guy isn't even phased by being interrogated by some drunk guy from the midwest. Instead, he seemed pleased to offer his opinion before telling us his life story and giving us his card. He later was spotted down in Lit's basement, possibly getting his freak on.

Oh and if anybody recalls, I used to maintain a music blog in which I would post rough drafts of songs from time to time. I was shocked to realize I hadn't updated the thing in months, so I threw together a little song and posted it last night. Yesterday marked the one-year anniversary of my first posts (the instant cut-out Jimmy Legs Takes His Medicine), and with this new addition there are now 30 songs by Jimmy Legs, as well as some old Motico recordings, and one cover song. The sad thing is it took me a year to double the number from that first batch. I'm hoping that when I start employing a delay pedal, I'll exponentially increase my recording frequency.

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Week of May 23-29, 2004

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