the Itchy and Scratchy Show

I cleared tomato plants from the garden yesterday, 40someodd of them. Gave some perennials a quick haircut for winter and broke out in a quick itchy rash that went away when I finally had a shower.

It was a crap tomato year for everyone. It started very late and was not superproductive. I do believe that heirloom/open pollinated yields are not as high as superkillerhybrid yields, but I am not fond of most hybrids.

Lynne's Black Cherry was a tasty wonder, even if the plants fought early blight. They had the flavor of a Black Brandywine without the wait. Zapotec did not like my yard and the fruit leathered on the vine.

Green tomatillos have taken over a few of my beds. Be careful of where you compost leftover green salsa. T.T. has found good use for the tomatillos, thankfully, and we have some nice relish to go with our carnitas tacos today.

Dad and his lovely friend Natalie took Wyatt fishing Saturday. Natalie has two grandsons with diabetes and was the guardian of one for 8 years. She was great. She asked all the right questions and asked for the right diabetes gear. Hopefully my Dad learned a bit. Wyatt had a great time landing "RAINBOW TROUT!" and we had a great time going out to lunch with Matt's old high school best friend and going out to Auntie Genevieve/Auntie Shauna's Baby-Q potluck. It was a great break from active parenting.

In other news, I have been pitching to and wooing Kiwi bands, labels, and handlers. Bless good ol' Ben Howe at Arch Hill. He is an old Flying Nun artist (Superette) and hosts the marvelous Don McGlashan and Luke Buda (among others) on Arch Hill. Have also pitched to Loop Recordings, the Wellington International Ukulele Orchestra, and WIUO/Don McG's Manager. Thanks to Bibi and Lynne for being my daily sounding boards on these matters and to Steve for the encouragement from the muso's perspective and to Karen and Matty and Diane for the general "go for it-ness" of it all.

the Lurgy returns, Levon Helm, and off to the Mendocino Coast

• Have been bathing in a pool of my own sweat. Got struck down with the Lurgy that everyone in town has/has had. It is running its course. The sweating is only intermittent now.
  
• Off to Mendocino tomorrow afternoon to go camping with friends from Matty's UC Davis days. Erin will be there! She is game to be my bad girl in crime and to sneak off to the North Coast microbrewery for a pint. Erin has always been so good to Matty and me.
  
• We are picking up a 10x10 Kodiak Canvas tent. I'd bought a cheaper one made of nylon, but decided that with my advancing bad hips, more forays in car camping, and the possibility of more New Zealand bands visiting, I'd better not cheap out. So, I bought a good tent that will last a very long time. Luckily, returning the nylon tent, still unopened in its box, will be a piece of piss.
  
• Saw Scorcese's "The Last Waltz," and Levon Helm ("He can drum, he can sing!") moved me. Somebody once called him the only drummer who could make you cry.
  
• My dear Mutton Birds' English penpal of many years, Spence, finally got to meet Don McGlashan the other day. He and fellow longtime birder Dave were lucky enough to catch Don McG do an impromptu set in Sherwood Forest before the Crowded House show. McG is touring as a member of the CH band. Spence and Dave also got the chance to do an interview w/ McG after the show. I was thrilled for them. They have worked so hard over the years to foster folks' interest in the band and to archive all that is available. Roger King was a star to arrange the tickets, passes, and meeting. Don McG seemed to indicate that there will be a U.S. West Coast tour in the not too distant future. I have cast my lines out for the Wellington International Ukulele Orchestra, Don McG, and the Phoenix Foundation (folks here still ask after them often). Fingers crossed that I'll know how to set my lines if and when the time comes.
  

Night two. NZ Music holds court in a basement somewhere in Downtown LA

I got to meet Don McGlashan minutes after weeping like a maudlin baby for Paul Hester. Crowded House closed the tour with "Better Be Home Soon" for PH, and after the high emotions of the week (all the Schoberlews are being treated for strep, family reunion dramas, personal dramas, blah blah), the thought of poor, fucking Paul Hester hanging in a public park just made me very, very sad.

Don McGlashan is cheekier than I imagined. He got and ran with it when I thanked him for "embracing his 'inner Black girl' on this tour." He said, "Ah, but you should have heard me sing "Bathe in the River" (a song of his in the gospel style with lovely falsettos) in New York." Matty thanked him for writing love songs to civil engineers the world over (McGlashan's father was a civvie). Roger King was lovely for offering us a chance to go after the show to say "hullo." I initially said, "Thanks, nah [strange melancholy twitter goes here]," but Bibi kicked my ass. I guess part of me wanted to always be able to refer to the "time I turned down the chance to...."

Don McGlashan loves the Phoenix Foundation, too. Joy. Pure Joy.

So, in the dank green basement of the Orpheum Theatre in rundown Downtown LA, I got to say a heartfelt "thank you" to the man who sings the Very Important Songs inside my head. Matty and I spent the rest of the time people watching or chatting with each other or with Bibi or with a lovely college concert promoter from Vancouver who flew in for the night to pitch to Don, too. All I have to say is Bishop puts together better appointed afterparties in our backyard.

Roger and Don seemed to appreciate the Woodford Reserve Bourbon we brought. I am getting superstitious. Woodfood, I think, helps me with "closing" (if I may continue to use the Glengarry Glen Ross references). I think it's what did it for with the Phoenix Foundation fellas. Thank you, Woodford, for making a good, lasting impression.

Extra highlight of the night: I got to thank Bret McKenzie for telling me how to get the Phoenix Foundation (and the Black Seeds) to Bishop (Stop wasting your time with the band. Convince Matt, the manager. His bands will go where he books them). I was touched that McKenzie asked, "Didn't I meet you outside Spaceland? It (the Phoenix Foundation show) happened? How did it go?" I just thought, "What a classy guy." I mean, here he is King of the World and he a remembers talking to some crazy woman (of which there are more passing through his and Jemaine Clement's lives than probably anybody else in the world) a few years ago and then asks how his friends were received in a small town in America....

I also got to tell Greg Johnson that "Liberty" was a fine song. Bibi told him that his cornet solo on the Able Tasman's "Michael Fay" (one of her fav. songs of alltime) is stellar. I did the Bishop pitch lite. He seemed interested. I couldn't tell if it was because he's been living in LA too long and has become a good actor or because he *would* come play in my living room for little more than a band of interpretive dancers, gas money, food, lodging, some CD sales. We exchanged email addresses.

International observer

Don McGlashan's set at Crowded House's technically wonderful* show was the best 20-25 minutes I've spent in a while**. The songs were: Winning Numbers, A Thing Well Made, While You Sleep, something referred to by folks in the audience as the Boyfriend Song, Andy, and Anchor Me. His voice was strong, clear, not showing signs of an intense tour. He was cheeky. He was no longer a luddite and his loops worked beautifully. I was moved more than once, I was lucky to see the man perform again, I was lucky to hear the soundtrack to my life live.

I am not a very good stalker.
I am a librarian at heart, a collector and indexer of facts and information.
I am also a keen observer - although you'd never know it by how my mouth sometimes "blah blah blahs" and my arms flap when I should just stand still and smile.

I walk into a lot of situations and suss out certain facts and factors and extrapolate. I can spot certain folks from a mile away. Matt calls this my "Terminator Eye". Bibi has seen me use it more than once.

Tonight, Bibi and I met the lovely Marc who is a VERY BIG NZ music aficionado and a fellow Mutton Birds, Humphreys and Keen, and Flying Nun fan. Marc and I have been sharing "mixtapes" on and off for about 4 years now. We found him with my Terminator Eye. Within minutes of meeting Marc, I zeroed in on a man with a tag flapping on a lanyard. I didn't mean to scare Don McGlashan's manager when he walked by, but I just blurted out "Roger King?" and lo and behold, it was him. He just had cool angular metal framed glasses and a shirt that was a shade of sky blue that nobody from LA wears because they are all wearing black or now, brown.

If I see him tomorrow night, I must apologize for my Glengarry Glen Ross hard sell of Bishop. I just kind of get excited, and it just comes out like a steamroller. Bless, bless, bless Sam Scott of the Phoenix Foundation for doing the advance work for me and for just telling Roger about the show and experience TPF had. Sam did more to sell Bishop than my said blah blah blahing and flapping of arms. I said I could suss out situations. I didn't say I knew how to behave in them.

Roger King said he also manages the Wellington International Ukulele Orchestra. I oohed and ahhed and flapped my arms at that, too. I had visions of the best time in Bishop, with Lynne bringing along any number of her six ukes and folks really getting into the singalong to "Ziggy Stardust." Interesting times ahead, Inshallah. Hope I didn't kill them with my aggressive geek routine.

I did feel happy wearing my butchy cowboy costume I wear to NZ artists' shows (the "I Love Te Aro" teeshirt, jeans, packer boots). I don't know, I just feel like a tomboy on a mission in my guise- like I am channeling the person I was when I was an optimistic energetic kid. After the surgery, I was not sure if the boots, which weigh nearly 10 pounds for the pair, would need to be retired. Three cheers, they don't.

*As nice and pitch perfect and even spontaneous as the CH show was, I wasn't moved - other than by watching Don McG let his hair down and enjoy being in somebody else's band for once.

**I had a great time at the Over the Atlantic show - really and truly. But, Don McG's all too brief set allowed me to have a few of those experiences when you kind of leave everything you know and exist purely in the moment.

Shimmering songs fall on Bishop - Over the Atlantic

It is safe to say that Over the Atlantic went over really well in Bishop last night. Nearly 50 punters turned up, and up to 40 of us took turns on the dancefloor at any given time (Karen counted).

We are the lot for whom jangly guitars, driving beats, and romantic and melancholy songs were made. We are the lot who spazz and interpretive dance and don't talk through sets. We are precisely the lot who loved Nik Brinkman on guitar and vocals, Ash Smith on bass, and Rhys Telford on drums and backing vocals for playing their honest to goodness asses off for us.

Babbo was up front in his ear protector headphones rocking out and learning the mechanics of bands. Our wee man swayed and pumped his arms and legs, mesmerized by Nik's singing and playing. Many of Nik's songs start as slow burns, build layers, and become walls of lovely melodies. It doesn't hurt that they make you want to move, be it a sway or a full on bop. As lovely as Over the Atlantic's Junica is as a record, I think the songs benefit from the backing of a real live drummer and a real live bassist. To be honest, I wasn't sure how to pitch the band to friends. Were they shoegazey? Were they spazzy new wave? Were they cerebral electronica? In the end, I didn't need to worry. They were just damned good.

The show was a stone soup effort. Derik donated his time and PA. The Inyo Council for the Arts donated their stage. Peter at the Black Sheep donated caffeine. Goike made a great recording. Janet plied the band with wholesome salads and homemade organic lemonade. Kate played "merchbitch" extraordinaire and probably got 10 extra cd sales. We were probably both the oldest and youngest crowd the band have ever played to.

We started the evening with a potluck and ended the earlyish set (started before 7:45 and ended before 9:15) around a firepit (thanks Janet for facilitating that, too!) chatting with the fellas. Folks bought vinyl (who would have thought there were so many closet DJs in Bishop?) and cds and had the band sign both (I didn't say we weren't dorks).

Thanks to Blink and Over the Atlantic for bringing their magic all the way from New Zealand (actually, it does not matter where Over the Atlantic are from, they should not be missed)! (Shout out to the Phoenix Foundation, too, for teaching me about putting together a show and for vouching that we hicks were worth a visit.)

Oh crap, I've got a show to put on

Kind of sleep deprived lately.
Wyatt sick with a cold, so been watching out for very high blood sugars. That, and there's a domestic violence case that has reared its ugly head again in the neighborhood.

After I get some sleep, I'll focus on getting the Over the Atlantic show together. Actually, it's been going pretty smoothly. Matty sort of reads my mind and tends to things around the house, like the big stinky roll of insulation that needed putting away. We're snagging one section of the Arts Council's 4 x 8 stage to cram one or two of the fellas on. Potlucks sort of take care of themselves in this town.

In other concert promotion news, Roger King, McGlashan's manager, sent a note essentially saying, "I've heard about you. I've been waiting for you to make your pitch...." It won't happen this go-around, but we've seemingly entered the "never say never" phase of having Don McGlashan perform in Bishop.

Houston, we have contact

with Ian Blink Jorgenson, New Zealand's own fly by the seat of his pants music impresario. I've been sending him annoying "Ooh, please put in a good word for Bishop when bands you know come to Americker" notes for going on two years now.

Looks like we might be on for a house concert featuring Over the Atlantic at the Spruce Hoose sometime around Earth Day. Awesome! It won't be as big of a production as was for the Phoenix Foundation, but I am fairly confident that it will be worth everyone's while.

The Bishop operatives are ready. Derik "Bless 'im" Olson has already volunteered his PA system.

Let's do this thing.

Sally Field extended disco remix moment

Was going to post the latest NZ Musician cover story on the Phoenix Foundation forum (thanks Rodney and Carla, my operatives in Newtown!), but skimmed over it first (which is unusual) and saw that Luke Buda really sang Bishop's praises and mine, too. I reckon that as exciting as it is to see one's name in print, it's a weird feeling, too. It was such a community effort that got them here, fed, loved, paid, etc. Really, if one piece of the pie (the venue, the sound, the gear, the audience) failed, none of it would have been a reality.

I know the band know it was a community effort.

So, instead of posting the article, I used the occasion to send a love note to everyone who was involved. Let's hope for more opportunities in 2008!

Holiday Moments in Dorkdom

Being rather moved by seeing Jarvis Cocker who was pushing his Velib bicycle up the sidewalk in Paris in front of Lavinia*, the three story retail booze palace. The experience has made me listen to A Different Class again a lot lately. This is funny because I was listening to it a lot before the trip.**

Speaking very poor French everywhere we went.

Doing my "Please have your artists come to Bishop" pitch to Mikee Tucker, label owner of Loop Recordings at the Black Seeds concert at La Bellevilloise. The Black Seeds put on a great show before a fairly packed audience of at least 250.

Fishing out a slightly used (only urine) diaper to replace a very used (poo) diaper at La Bellevilloise because we underestimated how many diapers to bring for the evening.

Not recognizing Sofia Coppola for being Sofia Coppola but being a face I'd seen before and staring a bit too long while she ate lunch at a quiet sidewalk cafe with her sleeping child in tow.

Telling Gueze/Lambic brewers/blenders Jean Van Roy and Armand Debelder HOW excited we were to have finally made it to Cantillon and Drei Fonteinen.

* Lavinia was the only place we could find the liqueur Creme de Violette, a missing ingredient to Michelle's Aviation cocktail. Creme de Violette smells a bit like grandmas' perfumes.

** Favorite lines from the album include, "When we woke up that morning/we had no way of knowing/that in a matter of hours/we'd change the way we were going/Where would I be now?/Where would I be now?/If we never met?" and "I'd give my whole life to see it/just you stood there/only in your (use your best Sheffield accent now) oonderwear." and "watching roaches climb the wall/if you called your dad/he could stop it all!"

From the Department of Shameless Self-Promotion

Michelle has taught me heaps about PR. Okay, the Inyo Register is not quite the New York Times. We nevertheless created the press release so that things could go smoothly the next time, if there's a next time. I really want to work on the venues in Mammoth and Tahoe. Despite the mighty unfortunate caption, the gist is there.

Wow, I guess it was a fantasy come true

A year to the week after I started scheming about bringing the Phoenix Foundation to Bishop, it came true - and beautifully to boot!

The band came, they saw, they conquered.

We got the extendo disco remix 2 hour long set, the dancing fools in wigs and boas, the heartfelt "It's a Lie!" singalong, the "give me a C-A-R-N-I-T-A-S!" spellout, the high quality New Zealand style meatpies, the mixed age turnout, the Paiute (the American Indians who settled the area) turnout (THANK YOU FOR COMING. THIS WAS A HIGHLIGHT FOR ME), the cancer fighter turnout (my conga line partner, a crazy hero of mine), the baying for "MORE!", the rare "This Charming Van," "The Drinker," the fabulous new "Bright Grey" AND "Purple Rain" encore....In short, we got everything.

You have never met a kinder, lovelier band of men who could sing and rock. Everyone, men included, flirted with Conga playing Will, and everyone, even grizzled old desert rats, now hold court and tell anyone who'll listen what a great band the Phoenix Foundation are.

I've seen this time and time again. The band start playing to a room of strangers and end the night being feted like good mates done bloody effing fantastically good. I know that's how I joined "the army."

Nearly 150 Owens Valleyites showed their generous, beautifully tan, fit, and manic natures and the band responded by giving us a party like we haven't seen in a while.

We're predicting that couples who were at the show went home and got it on casually.

Bless.

Staying focused

I suppose I have always wanted to bring a band like the Phoenix Foundation through here because this town is not only marked by its striking beauty, but by its resource of really awesome folks.

Derik, whom I didn't know two weeks ago, has supplied 75 percent of the backline gear (3 amps, keyboard amp, keyboard stands, guitar stands and now drums and lighting). Milo and Chris are opening even though what I am able to offer them keeps dwindling. Dan, another gentleman I don't know, is bringing a mural up from over an hour away (and gas prices are over $3.50 a gallon), so that we can use it in the show. People have bent over backward to help so far, and I will never really be able to pay all of them back. I have ridden the core group of friends very hard.

They ask brilliant questions, they keep offering to do more, and they keep me focused.

Sam from the Phoenix Foundation said that this stop was their "wild card," and noted that the band were really up for it. Even in my moments of insecurity and nervousness, I know that it's going to be a wonderful match. Bishop deserves a hardworking, endlessly talented, and endearing band like the Phoenix Foundation and they deserve an attentive, appreciative, and unpretentious audience like us.

Beers all around. My shout. The keg of Allaghash White arrives tomorrow!