2010-10-29

Another day with nothing written, nothing read. I think, sometimes, that my mind has possibly withered and withdrawn to the pint that basic day-to-day functions are all I can muster. Where is my motivation? Where is my ambition?

An excuse that I’ve painted for myself is that I’ve specialized this blog so much that it’s too far off topic for me to just write creatively. It feels like everything should be music related but mummify is not solely music related and, seriously, how many blogs should a guy have to run? So I’m breaking the arbitrary rules and pushing the envelope of my own blog so that it might include my own rants and ramblings. I hope it doesn’t drive too many readers away. I value the attentions of both of you.

Here it is two days before Halloween and I’m not prepared. Phish is about to do their thing in Atlantic City and I’ve made my peace with missing this entire tour. Missing Halloween is easier as I have kids to take out on Sunday; I’ve not seen a Halloween show in memory. I even flew home early from Vegoose in 2005. (Totally worth it, by the way.)

Also on the weekend agenda is a pair of Halloween parties and I have no costume. Not since I was a kid have I felt particularly excited or inspired to dress up for Halloween. I’m not a judgmental prick who thinks it childish or whatever, I just don’t have any internal motivation to assemble a costume. Recent years’ costumes can be credited entirely to my lovely and patient wife. I know I’ve tested that patience with my ambivalence but I cannot drive myself to even conceive a disguise much less assemble it. I do enjoy the parties and other people’s costumes. That stuff is a blast.

Anyway, that is looming heavily over me at this point. Basically 24 hours to get it together. We’ll see if it happens.

As for tonight, I’m trying to get out and tape the local Grateful Dead cover band, The Brokedown Boys. They do some fun, acoustic, Dead with a steel guitar holding down much of the leads. It promises to be a pretty good time. If the tape comes out nicely, I’ll see if I can’t get a bit of it up here soon.

Which reminds me that I promised to post some of the Keller Williams Electronic Experiment show up here. That tape came out nicely (last I checked.) I just haven’t had the time + motivation to finish off the transfer. Very soon that will get done along with Gayngs and more.

Last thing. Recently, I was tuned on to a band called Junip. Their current album is entitled “Fields” and it is really great. Don’t sleep on that. Also, I’m looking forward to a show in a couple weeks that promises to destroys faces; Tame Impala with Stardeath And White Dwarfs. Should be a heavy dose of psyche to get the minds right for the impending holidaze.

Megafaun – Heretofore

Megafaun - Heretofore

Carolina folk/psych troubadors, Megafaun have released a new EP. Heretofore, out today, September 14th, is being released as a means to hold us all over while they finish their full-length follow up to 2009’s Gather, Form & Fly. After a few listens, I can tell you that it most certainly will keep me on the hook for whatever they have in store.

The record opens with the title track, a trippy invocation to the band’s overall sound. The vocals come almost as a chant while swirls of effects and found sounds ride above a muted kickdrum. Next comes a straight ahead country-fied rocker entitled, “Carolina Days”. Phil Cook (guitar, banjo, etc) has called this a “love song to Durham, North Carolina.” Durham should be flattered. Continue reading →

Help Out A Friend

Two weeks ago, en route to the Telluride Phish shows a friend of mine and many in the Phish community Shawn (aka whyweigh, aka liquidgoggles) was in a terrible car accident that has left him with a broken neck, pelvis and hand. No one else was seriously hurt but shawn is in a Denver hospital far from his home near Pittsburgh. Unfortunately, this is not Shawn’s first brush with serious medicinal issues, back in 2003 he was diagnosed with Relapsing Polychondritis, a condition that he continues to deal with today, and which is probably at least partly responsible for the severity of his injuries sustained in this crash, due to brittle bones caused by side-effects of high doses of prednisone.

I’ve met Shawn at some shows and have known him for years now. He’s as nice a person as you’d hope to meet and very generous to the community. Several times last year I featured his photographs here on rowjimmy.com (and we’re doing so again today) and now I’m hoping that I can use this site to spread the word.

Two of the online communities that Shawn frequents have come together to raise funds to assist Shawn with expenses as well as to supply him with internet access as his laptop was destroyed in the crash and, due to his injuries, he is mostly stuck in bed. As a joint effort between members at phishposters.com and week4paug.net, a series of Phish-related posters (more than one Pollock!) have been donated to be auctioned for Shawn’s benefit. More posters should be going up later this week, so keep checking back. All funds from these sales will be going to Shawn.

Check out the auctions here.

If you aren’t into collecting Phish posters but would like to pitch in, head over to paypal and send what you can to whyweighfundraiser AT gmail.com. And, even if you can’t help out with a few bucks, please, spread the word.

Thanks.

-rj

Going Down the Road Feeling Bad – The Last One

This morning I received this post from a new contributor. Today, of all days, I wasn't looking
for a guest blog but I couldn't resist the opportunity to share this with you all. - rj

[audio:http://www.archive.org/download/gd1973-06-10.sbd.miller.tobin.patched-89730.90979.flac16/gd1973-06-10d2t04_vbr.mp3|titles= Grateful Dead 1973-06-10 – Stella Blue]
When there are great upheavals in our lives, our culture, or our nations, they indelibly mark the calendar of this eternal time line that is the human race. For instance, anyone in the United States over the age of fifty could probably tell you where they were and what they were doing the day John F. Kennedy died. If they were forty or older, most could probably recount how they woke to the news that John Lennon had been shot. And of those, I would hazard a guess that many could probably recount how they went on to spend the rest of that fateful day. Some might even be capable of dialing in to the minutiae of the day, what they ate or the weather. These events do not have to be deaths either; they can be joyful celebrations, such as the first man on the moon. Or they could be somber reflections, such as those that settle at the conclusion of a war. Fifteen years ago today, one of these very happenstances marked a great many people, those that considered themselves part of a magical Tribe. That wonderful family carved out of chance, hope and the love of the unknown; these were Deadheads. And of course, you now know I speak of the passing of Jerome John Garcia, or as we affectionately call him, Jerry.

On that fateful day, fifteen years ago, I found myself running around Vancouver with my girlfriend, picking up groceries and supplies for a trip out to one of the islands. We had recently come off that summer’s Grateful Dead tour, one that, now looking back, had been marred with incidences and bad omens at every stop; a dark storm had been brewing. As I flicked on the radio, now stuck in rain and traffic, to my surprise the Grateful Dead’s Trucking came blaring out off the FM dial. I say surprise, because the Dead were not your radio friendly staple, especially around these parts. At its conclusion, another Dead song, Sugar Magnolia, came crunching out on the airwaves. Well, this was odd, but I chalked it up to the “daily double shot” or some other new fangled radio marketing lingo used to rile up daytime callers. But when this was followed by the tenderness that is Box of Rain, the signal rang true.

Without saying a word, I reached down and turned the tuning knob. Sure enough, the next closest rock station was playing the Grateful Dead. So this is how I would learn of Jerry’s passing, not with words but with song. Appropriate, for honestly, who would want to hear that a member of their family has passed while watching a news channel’s talking head read a teleprompter. I turned to my girlfriend to ask if she had her passport, which was needless as the entire contents of our lives were packed away somewhere in that van. Maybe I simply needed confirmation of our next move. Her welling eyes directed me to the next exit off the highway and there we were, headed for San Francisco. There had to be one last show, one last celebration; please, just one last ride……… Continue reading →

Such a Long, Long, Time To Be Gone

This post originally ran on August 9, 2007.
On this, the 15th anniversary of Jerry’s passing, I feel that it captures my thoughts well enough that I’d like to share it with you once more.

Jerry
12 years have flown by since Jerry Garcia passed.

Nations have come and gone. Guitars grown silent and new players risen. Friendships and love affairs both dissolved and formed. My daughters born and one grown into a young woman, already… and too soon if you ask me. Yet, the world keeps turning.

Looking back to that day, when the news spread from phone to phone and head to head, I can vividly recall the feeling that I’ve felt more than a couple times in my life. It’s the feeling of being punched in the stomach- without the pain yet with all of the breathlessness- combined with the dizziness of a headwound and the crushing weighted sensation akin to wearing one of those lead aprons they use at the dentist’s office. I had gone to work at the record store before hearing the news and, I’d stayed because I didn’t know where else to go.

Motion seemed impossible.

Through the plate-glass I could see the world and its unceasing activity and, inside my head, I screamed for it to stop. I begged the world to freeze in place and pay notice to his passing. Didn’t they know what the world had lost?

Of course, they didn’t. Had they known, as I and so many hundreds of thousands know, they actually would have stopped and marked the day. They would have bowed their heads or lifted their arms or clenched their eyes tightly or all of the above and given thanks and voice to their sorrow for the fact that Jerry Garcia lived, gave his music to the world, and on that day, could give no more.

Yes, we saw it coming. On our less-than-blindly-optimistic days we certainly would not have expected him to live to 65. But no matter how much you think you’re ready… You never are. Not really.

That was a hard month. Not long after Jerry passed, something unexpected arrived in my mailbox. Actually, it was not so much unexpected as it had been forgotten. Earlier in the year, Jerry and his side band had recorded two songs for the soundtrack to the film, Smoke. In a mailer from The Grateful Dead or, perhaps in Relix magazine, I had spotted an offer for a free videocassette of the music video for one of the songs. Although it was noted as a very limited offer, I sent away and promptly forgot. That is, until one day, I opened my mailbox and found a mailer inside.

I rushed inside and popped in the video as I read the enclosed note. The note said that they had been flooded with requests after Jerry’s passing and that I was one of the ‘lucky few’ whose request they would be able to fill. The music started and I saw his face and I cried. It was not the first time I’d cried since that day, twelve years ago, when Jerry passed. This time, however, was the first time my tears could resolve into a smile. Things would get better. Life would go on. Tears are normal.

As they say, “When a lovely flame dies, Smoke Gets In Your Eyes.”
[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DEuJqlrfEZ0[/youtube]
Incidentally, this is the last studio recording Jerry did and, it was written by his namesake: Jerome Kern.

And it still makes me cry.

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