School for the Dead Live On Halloween - FREE and ALL AGES

Weather permitting (and it looks like it's going to be a nice mild Halloween), School for the Dead will be playing outside in the center of Florence, MA tomorrow from 5:00 - 5:30. Maybe earlier.

The concert is sponsored by WRSI 93.9 FM and Spare the Rock, Spoil the Child and it starts just before the Florence Rag Shag Parade which I'm told is a great place to be on Halloween!.

The Campbell Apartment Needs Your Help

Our friends in The Campbell Apartment need your vote.

Ari Vais' band is The Campbell Apartment. You may recall that Ari, Tony, Brian, and I used to have a band called Humbert. Ari is now living in San Francisco and New York City and he's still knocking out one hit after another.

The Campbell Apartment made a wonderful video for their song "St. Louis" and it is in the running for some regular rotation on MTVu (That's the MTV station that is broadcast on college campuses all across the country. They actually play music videos on it.)

If their video gets more votes than this other video that they are up against, then they will be added to the regular rotation, which would be great, and justly deserved.

Go here to watch the video and cast your vote. When you are finished, vote again, and again, and again. It's silly, but that's the way the powers that be have set things up. So, if you have a few moments, please click the link and cast your vote (you don't have to sign in or anything).

It's a really good video and song anyway, so please enjoy it. We'll keep you updated on what happens. Thanks.

The Ghost of Halloweens Past

Here's a photo from last Halloween. Remember? We rented out the banquet room at the World War II Club in Northampton. It was School for the Dead, Haunt, and The Novels.

I tried to rent out that room again this year but it was almost twice as much money as last year and last year, after renting a PA and paying for the room and the door person, we broke even exactly.

So, I'm afraid we are not hosting a concert this year. We are however playing as part of a Halloween Party that is hosted by a band called Alottle. (I love that name). Well, it's not School for the Dead proper that is playing this show, it is the Rub Wrongways Records Caravan of Stars Super Group.

It's at the VFW in Florence, MA, right in the center of town. It starts at 8:00, I believe it is all-ages, and it promises to be a cool D.I.Y. Rock Party. It's five dollars to get in, or four dollars with a costume.

We had a practice the other night and we've planned out a seven song set. We molded it, thanks to Brian's suggestion, into a one-long dance-party piece. Each song will connect to the rest with a never ending beat. We're also throwing in an extra cool and spooky cover song. It's a surprise, but I will tell you that the title starts with an adjective and ends with a woman's name.

At practice we also discussed costumes. Brian and Ryan had selected theirs already. Jason was on the verge of an idea. Lesa, Max, and I were still up in the air about it. Speaking of Ryan, (Ryan Quinn that is of Los Hijos Unicos, The Salvation Alley String Band, and Jason Bourgeois Band), I believe last year's Halloween in a way welcomed him into the Rub Wrongways fold as he jumped on stage with Haunt to play Matt Hebert's iPhone theramin.

Here's a snippet from my post last year about the show:

"So, yes, Jose and I took to the stage to hand out prizes. These were the costumes that won: "The Lady Who Can't Wait For Christmas", Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera, The Alien Babe With The Exoskeleton, The Two Fancy Geisha-like Ladies, Juno, The Young Tina Turner. Nice job everyone. Here are some other costumes that I can recall from the evening: Prom Queen, A couple scary clowns, Alligator Head, Foxy Brown, Fancy Ladies, Skeleton Twins, A Couple Unidentifiable Crazy Things, 60's Swingers, and more I can't think of at the moment.

After the incredibly valuable prizes were given out, Haunt took the stage. They were all dressed as witch/wizards. They were all identical and they were all hilarious. Especially hilarious was these identical witch-like wizards up there in the flashing lights and smoke play Matthew Hebert's mostly serious and heavy heartfelt songs. I love a little Halloween dichotomy don't you? There was even a last minute bonus wizard in Ryan from Los Hijos Unicos who took to the stage with a theramin app on an iPhone. It was all beautifully sublime.

Thank you to everyone who came out to the party. I hope you had fun. See you next time."

Good times. Anyway. There is also a chance that School for the Dead will be playing a bonus show on Saturday afternoon in Florence at the huge Florence Halloween Parade. We've been asked to play outside at the event and we decided that if the weather permits it, we would love to. So, cross your fingers for nice weather. Right now it looks like a chance of rain and a high of 62. Yesterday it said 68. The day before it said 54. So, we'll just have to see. If it does happen, it'll be at 5:00 in the center of Florence somewhere. Just follow the sounds of School for the Dead and you'll find us.

The Rub Wrongways Caravan of Stars Super Group

See us live this Thursday at the Florence VFW in Florence, MA for an all ages Halloween Rock Show with Alottle, The Problem With Dragons, Conduit, and Kill D. Stroy.

It's five dollars only, but if you wear a costume, it's four dollars only. Also, we are told there will be prizes. Doors are at 7:30.

I wonder what we will be costumed as...

Do You Like American Music? (We like all kinds of music….)

Two things have inspired me to write this essay:

1) I just finished watching (for the second time), “We Jam Econo”, the excellent documentary about the legendary San Pedro, CA band The Minutemen, who existed from 1979 until guitarist D. Boone’s fatal auto accident in 1985, AND
2) The fact that just two nights ago, I played a gig unlike any of the thousand gigs I’ve ever played: a bona fide “jam band” (and that’s just for lack of a better term—these guys have been playing this kind of music before that term was coined) gig, at Tammany Hall in Worcester, MA, filling in on drums for the Bruce Mandaro band. (Bruce Mandaro used to be in a band called Slipknot for about 15 years before the 90’s metal band of the same name sued for the name and won)

and a third that just occurred:

3) wouldn't it be fun to have a Dead cover band who did their songs like Minutemen tunes? All under 2 min? Anyway...

Unlike most other gigs I play, I didn’t tell but a handful of people about it, for the simple reasons that 1) I don’t know too many people who live in the Worcester area/ and or would want to travel to see a gig on a Thursday night and 2) I don’t know too many people who would be interested in seeing this band. I also am not exactly known for playing in anything approaching a jam band, and didn’t want to keep explaining how this all came about. This isn’t in any way a dig at the band, who is made up of extremely talented guys who’ve been playing music since before I was born. It’s more that most of my friends, musicians or otherwise, just aren’t into “that scene” (me included, to be honest). (By the way, the way the gig DID come about was through the Woodstock Transperformance thing. I was part of the Dead band, and Bruce was the Garcia.)

In re-watching the Minutemen documentary, a few things struck me. One is that I’m about as uncomfortable in a mosh pit as I am surrounded by hippie dancing (and I’m using that as just a general term). I’m really an uptight guy who is most comfortable onstage, away from the action. And I want neither a stray mosher’s fist or a stray noodly-hand-chasing-an-acid-trail to make contact with my eye.

Another thing I noted after the movie is the number of punk legends who’ve, in various interviews, articles, etc, gone on record as being influenced by some aspects of the Grateful Dead’s music: Greg Ginn of Black Flag/SST Records Mogul, Sonic Youth’s Lee Renaldo, The Meat Puppets, Patti Smith, Lenny Kaye, Elvis Costello, XTC’s Andy Partridge (who said he learned lead guitar by playing along to “Dark Star”) and I’m sure I’m forgetting some. I know (Minutemen) Mike Watt and D Boone weren’t afraid to flaunt their classic rock roots (Blue Oyster Cult, Steely Dan... their cover of CCR’s “Don’t Look Now” really verges on hippie funk, albeit at two minutes.) I have no idea of their thoughts on the Dead. Though 80's Garcia could have learned a little something about how a large man can move about a stage had he caught one of their shows.

Of course I’m one of the cynics who scoffed when I heard about the Empire State Building being lit “tie dye” this past week to honor some Dead-related museum exhibit. I mean, I just can’t bring myself to think that that’s in any way cool. And yet, I AM one to, say, play a non-Dead fan the Velvet Underground’s 18 minute “Follow The Leader” from The Quine Tapes and say “give that a looser rhythm section and that’s a friggin Dead song”. Or make a CD for a friend with the noisiest, most chaotic, feedback-strewn versions of (early) Dead songs I know of. So yes, I walk a thin line. That “Walk On the Wild Side” inspired “Franklin’s Tower” is a fact that made me happy, even if would make Lou Reed puke. When I heard a version of “Sugaree” where Garcia winds down his solo by playing the “Wild Side” bass line for a few measures was also a fun find. But this is not another “Warlocks East vs Warlocks West” essay.
I think I wanted to focus on this gig I did. But it’s late and I’m tired. Focus!

First off, preparation for this show was also unlike any other I’ve done. Beyond Bruce Mandaro, I didn’t play with the rest of the band until the first note. I didn’t meet the keyboardist, Mark (whose main gig is in Max Creek) until he walked on stage, late due to a prior engagement. Rehearsal consisted of beginnings and endings of a handful of songs and a small stack of CDs with certain songs asterisked. . Come showtime, Bruce called out at least 5 songs we hadn’t rehearsed and segued into a couple other strangers. I assume this was because he felt safe that I could roll with these punches. A vote of confidence. Phew...

The set consisted of half originals, half covers (and not all Dead covers, by a long shot. There was some Paul Simon, Beatles, Dylan, a Dave Alvin song and bluegrass traditionals thrown in, all with different feels from the familiar versions).

At the show, I told at least a couple of the guys, “I play with a lot of people, but really, this is my first ever gig that’s largely improv…”. Bruce assured me that any perceived trainwrecks are immediately forgotten and often times, in the spirit of the Dead, just lead to a new, unfamiliar place. There’s no getting lost, there’s no crashing. Just keep your ears open and try to look for visual cues if something seems to want to end.

For me, the second set was better than the first. I think in the first set I alternated between waiting for someone else to guide (and just staying on some groove) and, on the other hand possibly changing things too often, like someone hitting the different beat buttons on a synth. By the second set, sufficiently loose and in tune with the band, we got into some very interesting territory in the jams.

The thing that struck me afterwards was, my reference points for responding to what the band was doing, were probably different from their normal drummer(s)’. Sure, I had a young Bill Kreutzmann in mind at various times, but, just as often did I have Steve Shelley (Sonic Youth) in mind during some spacy moments, or Terry Chambers (XTC) during some reggae-tinged bits. Or Meat Puppets or Minutemen when things got Bluegrass-y. (is playing electric bluegrass THAT muchdifferent from playing a punk 2/4 beat?) And yet, if I brought up any of those bands, I can’t say for sure that they’d have had any idea of these reference points. So I kept it my little secret.

It’s really hard to remember too many specific moments, since it wasn’t just a series of rock tunes. But I will recount a conversation I had with someone there where I mentioned another Dead mix CD (actually, two) that I recently made (for Henning!), to state the case that, the thing about the Dead at their core was that (for the most part), take away the jamming, and there were dozens of great songs in their catalog. The response I got was “yeah, I actually feel the total opposite. I listen for the inspired improvised moments”.
I had to change the subject at that point. And not freak out and think “I’m not one of you!”.
(and I just remembered how mad it made me once when, after an Aloha Steamtrain show, a guy came up to me and said "you guys are good, but you'd be better if you JAMMED!"I mean really...there's a time or place for everything. It's like saying "I like ketchup. You know what would make your pancakes better? Ketchup!")

Writing a great song is like designing a building or a house. Finding great improvised moments is like hiking down a path and noticing the way the light hits a certain tree for the first time, and you know you’ll never see it exactly like that again, nor do you want to because you’ll always just compare it to that first, amazing time. If you snap a photo or do a painting of it, that's a song..or poem. Experiencing the fleeting moment, that's improv, that's kind of just living...not knowing what's around the corner.

There’s beauty and the essence of creativity in both approaches. I think my final verdict is that the improv thing is, for me, a total treat to play, but not always what I want to hear. (though, ok, I can rattle off at least 5 amazing Dark Stars)

When the day comes when I’m no longer driving long distances between libraries for my day job (which is partially how I re-discovered the art of listening to the Dead—30 miles on the Pike, or over the mountain from Orange to Warwick to Northfield, or Ware back to Deerfield goes by in a flash when you’re entranced by a never-heard-before, inspired show), I just can’t predict how often they’ll be on the musical menu. But I’ll never again deny their influence as I may have done for so long in the past. And that, I swear is my last word on the Dead.

Below are links to two articles I’ve come across by people with similar feelings:

http://pitchfork.com/features/resonant-frequency/7166-resonant-frequency-59/

http://www.michaeljkramer.net/cr/?m=200904

Halloween Party at Florence VFW Thursday, Octoboer 29.

The Rub Wrongways Records Caravan of Stars Super Group has been asked to partake in a Halloween Party this up coming Thursday at the Florence VFW (18 Meadow St. Florence, MA). It starts at 8:00 and I think it is all ages (but I'm not sure).

We'll be doing a set with a couple song from School for the Dead, The Fawns, Sitting Next To Brian, and Bourgeois Heroes. I think we're also planning a Halloween appropriate cover by The Kinks.

Also on the bill are Problem With Dragons, Conduit, Kill D. Stroy, and your hosts, Alottle. It's only 5 clams and 4 if you are in costume. We're told there will be prizes. Maybe I'll show up dressed as a prize. Then I win no matter what.

Where The Fish Slapping Last Fm Things Are

Saw Where The Wild Things Are last night. I pretty much totally loved it.

There sure are a lot of good movies being made these days it seems. Why is that? I'm guessing, once again, it is because I am now the same age as a lot of the directors, writers, and producers and we've got similar generational interests and tastes.

I've also been watching this six hour documentary on Monty Python that IFC is showing. I think I'm on the third episode. It's good. I'm always kind of amazed at the way humor changes over the years. It's just like music. New music/comedy expounds upon the music/comedy of the era preceding it. When I was younger and I watched Python, it was the funniest thing in the world. Now, I still find it humorous and smart and interesting but I rarely actual laugh at it. Except for the Fish Slapping Dance. That pretty much gets me every time.

I did learn one thing about Python that I didn't know. I wasn't aware that it was Pink Floyd and Led Zeppelin who funded and made possible the production of The Holy Grail. That's kind of cool. I think I might be interested in seeing that movie again. Also, The Life Of Brian. Chances are I would understand more of the gags this time around.

I've been listening to Last.Fm today. I think it is better than Pandora at lumping together different artists. Right now it is playing The Mountain Movers. Of course, I have this weird thing where I can listen to Henning Ohlenbusch Radio. It plays songs based on the music of me. Instead of comparing songs by musical similarities it plays favorites of people who also like the identified artist. So, its interesting to see what other bands people who listen to me listen to. So far so good. I only had one track that I skipped over.

A Slide Show Of Some Pictures From My Trip To Phoenix, AZ

My Ride Up Mount Conundrum

It suddenly occurred to me that the good old classic Warner Brothers Cartoons are no longer on television. I guess I just had imagined that they would always be there for me. I mean, even when I was little and they were on, they were ageless, from a completely different era. It didn't even ever enter my imagination that they might just fade away. But, they really seem to have done just that. All those beautiful crazy backgrounds and the voices of Mel Blanc are just gone.

I was thinking this while sitting in a red, rented Toyota on a silent, desert mountain road just south of Phoenix, Arizona last week. It was only eight o'clock in the morning and I was half way up the twisting and turning Park Road. I had pulled over and stopped because, blocking my lane... was a road runner. It wasn't blue, it didn't have yellow legs, and it didn't look at me an say "Meep meep." It just stood there and I rolled down my window. The silence and the blast of hot desert air rushed in and I locked eyes with the little bird as it slowly walked across the road. I said "hello" and it darted under the brambly brush.

After watching the road runner for a few minutes, all the while cursing myself for forgetting my good camera back at the hotel, I continued my journey up the mountain. The road was smooth and well kept and signs were constantly reminding me to go fifteen miles-per-hour around the curves. The signs weren't needed. I wasn't about to go any faster than that, not with the steep mountain drops on each side of the narrow road.

I left the windows down even though it was uncomfortable in the sunny car. I wanted to feel that dry heat from the desert. I wanted to embrace how different the climate was from my green and lush home turf. These extremes were making me think about how big this country is and how big the world is and how people pretty much seemed just about the same no matter where you went. I mean, obviously, we all have our differences and you can pigeon-hole different areas in superficial ways. For example I didn't see any pale scrawny stubble-faced guys with sideburns the whole week that I was in the area. That is, except for reflections in the tinted windows of the same-old-stores and the same-old-restaurants that lined the same-old-shopping centers.

But, I was winding my way through the desert, with giant human shaped cacti waving to me as I went by, thinking about the sameness of the human race. How we all basically want the same things. How we all are pretty much polite and considerate to others. How we all wave or nod or smile at strangers when holding open a door.

Eventually, I came up to a summit parking area. It was still early on a weekday so there was only one other vehicle there already. I pulled over and stepped out into the heat, excited to let the silence of the desert mountains surround me. You see, these desert mountains are different than the mountains I am used to. There are no leaves for the wind to rustle through. In fact, there was very little wind at all. There was just sand and rocks and cacti and the unrelenting sun. These mountains are silent.

They are so quiet, that later, when Lesa and I pulled over at a different stop we could clearly here the bells of an ice-cream truck down in a valley several miles away. This quiet is something that has always been very difficult to find in my life. Around here, you can only find it in the middle of a snow storm. It has to be a storm that is bad enough that the roads are empty, that doesn't have a howling wind, and it has to be early enough in it that the beeping and thundering snowplows are not yet present.

The only other place I've found it is far up in the lakes region of Maine. Again, there can be no wind in the trees, and no chirping insects. It's rare. It's hard to come by. Even indoors, it is difficult to find silence. There is always something, a hum of a refrigerator or the movement of air through a doorway.

But on these mountains there were moments of utter silence. They fell between jets in the never ending air-traffic of the Phoenix sky. The first time I stepped out on one of these mountains, I was instantly struck with it. It felt like the air was being sucked out of my ears. Cool.

So, here I was on South Mountain at eight thirty in the morning on the peak, standing in a State Park parking lot with the sun bearing down on me, peering across the desert valley, in the windless outdoors, trying to get me some of that silence.

On the other end of the parking lot, there was a white pick-up truck. In the back of its bed sat a small family. There were two parents and a child, probably about four years old. They had a camera and binoculars and were gazing out over the desert hills to the higher mountains far, far way in the distance. The door to their truck was open and the key must have been in the ignition because that clear familiar sound of "ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding" was coming from it.

In this otherwise silent and peaceful nature reserve, they were sitting there enjoying the view while their truck was (ding ding ding ding ding ding ding) doing all it could to alert them to the problem of their key in the ignition with the engine off and the door open. "Ding ding ding ding ding ding ding".

I stopped and stared at the scene with disbelief.

Ordinarily, I am a great one for coming up with possible reasons for strange behavior. It's an annoying personality trait of mine that can drive those around me crazy, I think. For example when someone complains about someone else acting rude I might suggest that maybe they were just coming from a funeral. It's important to the scientific side of my brain to know why certain things happen, so its automatic for me to come up with possibilities that explain anomalies seen in the actions of others.

I stared at the scene and saw the happy family clearly enjoying their morning respite a top this mountain with the "ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding dinging" in the background. It was the only noise, besides the occasionally airplane.

"Maybe they are deaf," I thought. But no, they were clearly speaking to each other quietly and would occasionally utter a warning to the young child playing in the dirt.

"Maybe they just stepped outside of a minute". But no, they were there when I pulled in and the were clearly not going anywhere soon.

"Maybe there's some mechanical problem that requires them to leave the key in the ignition but also have the door open." Um, I can't think of one.

"Maybe the alarm sound, that clearly exists for the whole purpose of trying to get you to make it stop...maybe they just like it." Yeah, I doubt it.

It wasn't long before I just had to leave. I was hoping for a silent moment of desert and natural relaxation, instead my brain was in a fury unable to create a situation that would explain the situation that I was observing.

But, before I left, I whipped out my phone and snapped a picture with the intent on sharing it here.



And this all happened in the middle of my contemplation of the similarities of all humans. What's a guy to think?





UPDATE: As I was editing this post and checking for spelling, I suddenly thought of a possible explanation for the ding dinging truck situation. Perhaps there was a fourth family member, a baby, asleep in the truck. The key was in, the air-conditioner was running, and the door was open so that the parents would be able to hear if the baby stirred.

I feel much better.

Robyn Hitchcock "Egyptian Cream" Cover. School for the Dead's First Gig - 2001.

This video was taken at The Baystate in Northampton, MA. It's School for the Dead's first ever gig. Mark Schwaber was on guitar here. This is before Tony joined up with the band.

Rub Wrongways Caravan Supergroup - New York Edition (Bored To Death)

There's no reason why I wouldn't dig the new HBO series "Bored To Death". It's geared directly to me. And I do dig it. It's gear. The show takes place in New York City. In the first episode, Jason Schwartzman's character visits the Parkside Lounge to do some detective work. The Parkside Lounge! Hey wait a minute, I know that place. In fact, look who's going to be there this Saturday....us!

In the TV show the Parkside sits alone on an empty dark street. In real life, there's a whole lot of traffic (both on the street and on the sidewalk). When Schwartzman walks in the place is almost empty (like it would/should be in a noir show with a bent towards ennui), in real life that small front room would be packed with people. The bartender on the show is a big tough guy. Maybe he really works there, but I'm leaning more towards a black haired, tattooed young lady in real life. In the shot, you can hear a band in the background. In real life, that would be us, The Rub Wrongways Caravan of Stars.

Saturday October 10, 2009
8:00 - Daytime
9:00 - The Rub Wrongways Caravan of Stars Super Group
10:00 - Boy Genius
11:00 - Cony Island Swan Dive
Location: Parkside Lounge
Street: 317 East Houston St, between Ave B and C
City/Town: New York, NY

Hope you can come out to our concert. It's the first time the Caravan has come to New York. It's also the first time that Ryan will have his pedal steel guitar with him.