Tag Archives: buck 65

unlike the hosts, i don’t have to mention the sponsors

The Winnipeg International Jazz Fest is on right now and I’ve been to a few shows. Not as many as the organizers I know would like, I am sure, but more than I’ve been to in years. Now, when I say Jazz Fest don’t go thinking I’m off listening to Charlie Parker or anything like that. One of the things I like about the Jazz Fest is its non-traditionalness. So on Saturday I went to see some hip hop.

The opening act was a Winnipeg rap group called The Lytics. They were good classic kind of crowd-moving hip hop. The four MCs are all related and they had good flow and stuff. Fine opening act for Buck 65 (who does a much different style of hip hop himself), and one more appreciated by the crowd than the last Buck 65 show I went to where Cadence Weapon was greeted indifferently.

I am a big Buck 65 fan and he didn’t disappoint. His part of the show started with some technical difficulties (in that the laptop holding all his music wasn’t connecting to the sound system) but while people frantically tried to get it back to how it was for their sound check, he told a joke about a talking dog and then did an unaccompanied piece about being the mayor of the world whose life got all flipped over because of a run-in with a sexy sexy mannequin. Great stuff, and then things got working and it was even better.

One of the things I appreciate most about my favourite musical artists is the storytelling aspect to their work. Danny Michel does a great live show because he’s good at making the connection to the audience in between songs. For me, Buck 65′s songs themselves are the connection. He did his hits and he did stuff I’d never heard before and it was great. The loops for Roses and Blue Jays were based on the theme to Twin Peaks, which was awesome.

As always I felt a little like as an audience we let him down. Near the beginning he did this raspy “Winnipeg. Winnipeg. Winnipeg.” into the mic and after a couple of repetitions he had to ask if we knew what he was referencing. I don’t know how to have told him that some of us got it. It was the same thing that happened last time I was at one of his shows when he made a baseball reference and no one got it. He had a woman named Valerie helping him out on some songs and she was good. The crowd really liked her so maybe that makes up for missing the Guy Maddin bit.

Then two nights ago I went to see Deerhoof, who I’d never seen. Deerhoof is hard to explain. They use a lot of weird offbeats and noise combined with poppy nonsense lyrics from their Japanese-accented singer. I really like them and their show was very bouncy. I’m glad I saw them.

Deerhoof’s opening act was Mahogany Frog who were really good. The MC introduced them as “Winnipeg’s Prog Rock Gods” and there was a bit of that Godliness to them. They came on and used their keyboards drums and guitars to make really neat noise for however long their set was. No words, just these mutating sounds. There were a few slight dips in the sound (resembling the ends of songs) where people could applaud but they barely acknowledged that there even was an audience at all. They were creator deities concentrating on making art not on the mere adulation of mortals. It was really cool. And at the end of their set none of the mics were on so no one could hear the bass player thank the crowd (and spoil the illusion).

After Deerhoof, Questlove from the Roots came in for a DJ set. It was funny watching the demographics of the room shift for the after party. I couldn’t afford tickets to see The Roots, so this was as close as I got. He played some good stuff, barely any of which I’d ever heard before. People were having a good time.

Except for this one couple. Oh they were intriguing. They were a guy and a girl, the guy who looked like a bit of an MBA kind of jerk, who looked tipsy and self-satisfied with his cleverness. The woman was much shorter and sharper, very thin with glasses and severe eyebrows. I think I’d seen her before at the last 1234V launch party. The guy was talking to her and she was talking back with periodic looks of disgust. He’d swoop in right next to her ear like he was going to kiss her neck but just talk because it was loud in there. And then she’d talk back, emphasizing her points with jabs of her finger, while he had a “Yeah, whatever” kind of look on his face. Then she’d walk away into the crowd of people and then he’d follow her or she’d come back to say “And another thing…” This continued for at least an hour. I wanted to tell her that arguing with a drunk guy isn’t going to win anything. It was lots of fun to watch though, especially when other guys came along and were doing the “Is this guy bothering you?” bit, because she was pretty hot. She stared those guys down and maybe talked about what a douchebag her boyfriend was being, but refused to stop arguing with him. I bet I wouldn’t have enjoyed it so much if I could have heard them. As it was, they were a nice diversion from watching Questlove do his thing.

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command line

I’m trying out blogging straight from Vim using vimpress plugins. Since it appears to be working I may have succeeded in becoming even more nerdy with my cute little linux netbook. I don’t see that as an altogether bad thing. Part of the whole thing about this computer of mine (as opposed to something like an iPad) is the idea of accomplishing stuff with it. I like the idea of this thing being a tool to help me make things as oppsed to a device to help me consume things.

I want to be more of a maker and less of a consumer, in general. There’s a Buck 65 line that says “I don’t want everything to be made easy for me.” And in some respects that’s true for me. A lot of respects, really. Getting a computer to work through its not necessarily user-friendly ways makes me happy. Though I’m not tossing my well-designed to make things easy Mac away just yet. This little box is for when I want to feel independent, when I want the challenge. I’ll jump back and forth between them as necessary.

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i want summer to start now

Of course it’s snowing. Why wouldn’t it snow on the fourth day of May? Perfect sense.

I golfed last week with Sean and it was fun. We didn’t keep score, just hit balls. I got the ball in the air a couple of times, hit one water hazard and wasn’t as cold as I could have been. I didn’t take too many pictures (we were already playing pretty slow) but I liked this one, especially once I’d tweaked the levels up to how it looks there. Trying to make it look like an oversaturated old snapshot or something.

The night before golf I’d been to see the Buck 65 show, which was all good. I take too much on myself at shows like that though. I feel bad when the crowd isn’t crazy into the opening act, as if it’s all my fault, and if we don’t go crazy no one will ever come back to perform ever again. And in Buck 65′s set he started talking about Lenny Dykstra and then broke off. “You have no idea what I’m talking about…” he said. I wanted to shout “Baseball! You’re talking baseball!” but I couldn’t remember anything about Dykstra except that he was a baseball player and didn’t want to be called out on account of my superficiality. When I got home I looked him up on wikipedia. So if it ever comes up again, I’ll be more prepared.

Alison’s David is moving into the house this weekend. I’m hoping all his stuff’ll be out of the dining room in the next few days since the dining room table is where I do my morning writing. And I can’t write at a table piled six feet high with junk. But I got my last notebook filled before he started the process, so it’s a good time for me to take a break. Which I’m using to do up the rest of the Hangman entries from March. So far, I’ve put up something like 24,000 words from that trip.

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27 jiangyou train

And now on the train. A short-batteried iPod and mysteriously depleting phone in my pockets and I’m just glad I got a chance to grab a couple of books from the Zhi Mian office. No problem with them running out. In my previous China notebooks there must be a lot about train trips. What can I add? Thirty hours to Jiangyou. In our little hard sleeper compartment there are also two girls. I don’t know if anyone’s at the very top but I think not. One of the girls is taking her first (sleeper) train trip. When the woman came by to exchange tickets for plastic chits she (the girl) asked how much it cost. Maybe she assumed it was some sort of upgrade to her seat not just to the physical ticket. Holly and I both have bottom bunks facing each other, which I’ve never had before. And no one else is crowding my bed/seat. That’s always my fear with these trains that some pushy Chinese family will invade my bottom bunk because it’s the most convenient for sitting. And then I have no ground to retreat to up above to look down on them curl up out of the way and out of reach. Travelling with a person, I prefer one of us to have a bottom bunk so some sharing of a seat can go on. The last long train trip I took was Chengdu to Xian. In China at least. We (Aileen and I) also took the train from that town in Ukraine to Bucharest. And trains all over Romania really. Never mind. This is still my first return to the rails in 18 months. Not very long I admit. Next to the tracks are bricks bricks bricks arranged in building forms. Now we’re passing big ol’ cooling towers. Reminding me of Urumqi.

Oh Xinjiang with your heat and dust. I miss you. I miss deserts in general. Here we’ve just got gray skies and pale dirt. I’ve been reading these Wendell Berry essays and it makes me wonder about soil. Back home we’ve got good black soil. How does it disappear? If I wanted to could I buy a plot of land down in the valley? Put in a tinyhouse, garden and write? That’d be a nice Taoist existence right? Going back to nature and roots and all. As I’m thinking about nature we’re passing more cooling tower. Brown and green and coal and boxcars. Yellow brick walls. I’ve taken a bunch of pictures of walls for their textures in the last few days. Man these Henan towns are ugly this time of year. It’s the yellow orange soil and the brown grass and black leafless trees. But it is the country. Inherently better than urbane surrounds? Tiny patches of fields this is agrarian life. I remember talking about the Green Revolution back in my undergrad and vaguely condemning the industrialization of agriculture I always wonder what this country used to look like. Listening to Buck 65 and I love how a limited palette of songs (just a 1G shuffle) means there are associations built up with the songs even just from the last three weeks. I was just brought back to the wandering through the alleys day. Caves in the yellow hills. This wandering capturer thing is all I can do with this life. And it’s illusionary, I get that. But I still feel the need to do something fragged all up replanted thin trees lining the roads and rails just breaks. And now the green is taking a bigger amount of the landscape. Still seems like it’s just surrounding trash heaps. Cut cut cut through all the hills of yellow. Bits of grass grow down to the tracks and we’re high above a town (Jiao Kou read the sign where the uniformed frowner watched with his flag. Those guys I only see them standing in their little shelters staring at the train. If I was up at the engine would I be able to spot them in motion?) Now we’re tilting rightwards. Now levelling out. There are so many little “nail houses” of rock standing around. They have caves with archways dug into them. How old can those be? Maybe they’re just used to store trash. Get bricked up when full for future archaeologists. There was a tunnel about ten feet long and a bend on both entrance and exit. Only used for walking or a motorcycle (and even then you’d almost have to walk it through). We’ve been going slowly past this town but are now picking up a bit of speed. Through a stationand now a city. These completely nonshiny cities depress me. A coal yard a brickyard a cemetery a dingy green mosque.

Zhao Xing isn’t coming to meet Holly in Chengdu and she isn’t sure how mad to get. Maybe it’s just a cultural thing? Chinese people live apart from their spouses for huge amounts of time for work. Maybe that’s why his message just said “that’s a shame.” Or maybe he’s really torn up about it. Or maybe life would be a lot easier if they just broke up. These have all been mentioned this morning. She would make the effort if the roles were reversed but she doesn’t want to try force anything in which she’ll be disappointed. No big plans to call him with to figure alternatives. Let him figure them out on his own. [He never came to Chengdu but a week after I left he went to Nanjing to visit Holly. All is well with the world. -JJU]

And yesterday Holly got into an argument with Sun Wen and Wang Xuefu about Xiao Meng and how they’re really bad office managers who don’t tell you how to do things and then get mad when you do them differently than they wanted. And he’s padding year-end reports with this year’s numbers and they try guilting Holly about leaving. And still she’d work with them again.

This sleeper car has video screens. They’re multiplying. And the elevators and the buses. There’s soon to be nowhere safe. A hawker with a big personal DVD player wanders the aisle looking to rent out his ability to watch a movie. No one is putting on headphones like me. The idea that others might find their cacophony annoying doesn’t register. The middle-aged guy in the next compartment played a couple of horrible technodancepop songs on his phone really loudly for a while. I tried putting in my headphones to counteract it but the phone was too blaring. One of the girls in our compartment bought a cheap 2-bit video game with earsplitting boops and beeps. Everyone’s phones ring so loudly for each text received. Except that round headed glasses guy on the subway last week who consciously spoke quieter on his phone when we all got on the train. Considerate. Uncommonly.

At some level I’m aware that these nowhere stops to allow a faster train through are accounted for in the schedule they still manage to frustrate me. There’s not a real difference between moving and sitting still. I still will have to sleep once more on board this train. But this reliance on some far off train to go by so we can move, even though we’re already here. Waiting.

The two girls from our compartment are chatting away. The girl in the pink shoes talks a lot to everyone about anything. Holly heard her going on about some guy who was mean to his girlfriend and her brother and whatever else. She just tried to stop the little girl who was trucking by, but her ayi/grandmother pushed the little one right along. No time for you, pink shoes! Zheng Lei is James’ name. And now we’re approaching the time to sleep. No longer are the torrents of plumblossoms visible scattered down the mountainsides and I’m into the Dickens.

And deep into the night the girl in white did talk loudly. Whenever I woke up there she was. She seemed so childish but Holly heard her say she’d been working for three years. At one point I was going to ask her to shut the hell up, but couldn’t remember the proper term. “Ni keyi shush ma?” didn’t seem like it would work too well. Holly thought about saying something too, but didn’t. Happily my iPod still had juice and she wasn’t so loud I couldn’t drown her out. I don’t remember my dreams at all apart from the fact her talking interrupted them.

The moon was full and visible and it felt like we were entering much healthier land. Woken up early by the attendant to get our plastic chits turned back into tickets, then lay back to watch the moon. When the alarm on Holly’s cell phone went off it was time to make coffee. The convict 2 compartents down was chained to a bedpost (though he’d been free a while the previous afternoon) that kept him close to the aisle. Then we arrived. Four people in the sleepers disembarked at Jiangyou.

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