Tag Archives: tom waits

doing things

It was a long weekend here, but I still don’t know why. We walked along harbours and tried to stay out of the wind and drank coffee and read about aboriginal plants in the botanical gardens and marvelled at how much was closed on a holiday. It felt really peaceful even in the CBD (central business district – do places outside Australia use that terminology? I can’t remember ever hearing it before).

I’m down to two months left at Prosentient. I’m currently working on the new website. It’s lots of CSS coding (markup? probably a real programmer would take issue with calling CSS code) which is a good skill to have I guess.

But I’m getting itchy about this whole work thing. Every moment there is time that could be seeing and doing awesome things. Like going to see a bunch of Sydney artists do a Tom Waits night at the Vanguard. But we’re doing that tomorrow night. It seems like a classy kind of place so I’m quite interested in how it’ll compare to the Tom Waits Birthday parties I’ve been to at Times Change(d).

I made a butternut squash soup for dinner tonight. It was quite tasty. Holly likes soups much more than me so I’ve been learning to make a few of them. Her aunt’s lentil soup is so good. We’ve made that recipe once every few weeks.

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with confetti in my hair

Happy Birthday Tom Waits! I went down to Times last night for a birthday party, filled with songs.

I cringed for one group who did a Tom song, then said they were going to mic it up with a few of their own songs. They played one of theirs and then a Tom song, but not a well known one. After that song a guy started yelling at them to play some Tom Waits, and he got a bit of a Tom! Tom! Tom! chant going. The cringing was because I did not want to see the singer scream her head off at them, which she sort of had the right to since they were being pissy about a song that was what they wanted. I confess that I was pissed off that they’d play a non-Tom Waits song too, but three out of four were.

What got me very angry (seething with rage) was the last group, who were musically awesomerriffic, but their goddamned singer didn’t know the words to any of the songs. He had a lyrics sheet that he kept peering at but it didn’t help one bit. And they did great songs, that I wanted to love but he ruined them (and then got pissy that people didn’t sing along to Murder in the Red Barn enough).

If I’m listening to someone cover Tom Waits I want someone who’s dealing with the words; either being understandable or mucking around with them in a Tom Waits fashion, not blathering gibberish because he’s drunk.

I am intrigued by the upcoming Scarlett Johansson album consisting entirely of Tom Waits covers. She is the one doing that, right?

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whackaround

Today was a sweetass day. I picked up some comics at the library, bought the new Tom Waits album (which is frickin’ sweet and full of good versions of things I’d only had crackly bootlegs of), and am one step closer to having a job. Next week I’ll interview with the city to become a page at the liberry (probably shouldn’t make that joke in the interview). I am very confident in my book sorting abilities, so I think it’ll go well.

I celebrated by reading the pile of library comics I got and then eating a couple of tasty minipizzas.

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one more thing that isn’t an iPhone

To go with that last one, a Josh Ellis post on religion: Gazing Overlong Into The Abyss.

Also, has anyone else tried emusic.com? It seems to be a better deal than the horribly DRM riddled iTunes music store. I’m doing the free trial right now and laughed a lot at the one review I found when I Googled emusic.com + scam. The reviewer basically complained about the lack of artists in the emusic catalogue. That it’s all “independents” who he’s never heard of. These nobodies are people like Neko Case, Tom Waits, Nick Cave just to pick from one label. I’m pretty happy with it.

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absurd and horrible

One would think that I’d stop flinching when fireworks go off around me. Especially when I see said shiny ball of gunpowder lighting up the sky momentarily before the bang. But no, I jump.

I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with my life when I get back. Suggestions are welcome at this point (though I reserve the right to ignore you). Part of what I want to do is have a DVD player and video discs that actually show me movies occasionally. Tiger and the Snow didn’t work this evening. And it promised me “the extraordinary participation of Tom Waits.” Le sigh.

This link’s for Emily.

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you may be a lover but you ain’t no dancer

You know what I’ve been doing in my seventh to last week of being a goddamned teacher? Getting involved in open source cinema and being absolutely goddamned inspired by weird nonmusic.

I listened to DJ Food’s Raiding the 20th Century earlier this week and fell in love. And this isn’t like all those other times I’ve fallen in love; cutups love me back. Oh blooody hell I wish I could say that about a person, but I guess a genre of music is all I get so what the fuck eh? This is something I can do. Listen to something by Steinsky or Public Works. Please.

I actually have a modicum of talent in this arena (from the radio training with DNTO) and I love what happens when you put together things. Someone, possibly named Burroughs said “When you cut up the present, the future leaks out” and that’s something that it is possible for me to do.

It’s all connected to that “What the hell am I going to do when I go back to Canada?” question and I keep on waffling. At this very moment I’d almost be content to get a horrible job I’d hate so I can spend the rest of my time creating things. Having a day job you hate is a legitimate path right? As long as you hate it? If I’m making something that no one cares about in my spare time? And when people ask what I do if I don’t say “I work in marketing at Agrifuckingcore United” but “I make music that (ten to one) you can’t dance to” I’m not a horrible soulless drone in an Albertan apiary, right?

Today I’ve got the White Album on the iPod and it’s crazy how the Grey Album has shaped my experience of this piece of art. Can I extricate it from Jay-Z? Yes and no, but that’s what’s insensible about the whole deal. I understand now why Kate was so angry at that Beatles 1 CD (or possibly I’m missing the point; it’s entirely possible she was just being a snob); there’s nothing from this greatest artistic expression of whatever the fuck decade it was on it. Number Nine?

If you were to ask me today about my favourite musicians, I’d be saying Dan Bern, Tom Waits or the Kleptnes. And the Kleptones come from a long tradition including the Tape-beatles, whose early nineties stuff I’ve been downloading like mad. It’s crazy how these people were pioneering things on analogue tape, and how much easier and better sounding you can make it in this digital age. But they had to cut up tape back in the day. But I like how the three work together. Dan Bern’s at his best all stripped down, just voice and guitar (and harmonica), while Waits gets increasingly more esoteric in his orchestration, and then the Kleptones are all about organized confusion.

I’ve been writing a song over the last couple of days. It started off very countryish but has morphed into a kind of jazzy acoustic pop thing. It still needs a third verse, but I’m happier with it than any pseudo-song I’ve ever done before.

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miscommunication

I got an email from my mom today. It included this:

Yesterday I went into our regular Chinese restaurant that is just 1 block from here to get a take out wanton soup. Yummmm. Anyway, I was talking to a new worker in there. She is maybe in her early 20s, is from China and has lived in Canada for one year. Her English is quite good. I mentioned to her that I had a son living in China and she wanted to know where. I told her and she did said she had never ever heard of Chongqing. I told her it was the Sichaun Province she again looked blank but kept on pushing me. I told her near the “Three Gorges.” She didn’t have a clue. Then all of a sudden Chonqing rang a bell after I said it about four times. “It is a very famous place” she said. Her home town is about 8 hours out of Beijing.

Are they really ignorant of their own country or do you think it was just a communication problem?

As I said in my email back to her, it’s a communication thing.

Todd (MEd) told us a story how he came back to school one fall and some students that he knew asked him where he’d been that summer. He said he’d been to Beijing. Blank stares. “You know, Beijing” he said. “Is that in Canada?”

No matter how we think we pronounce things correctly we don’t. It’s like how my students have to say “Ranrorar” about a billion times before I hear Vancouver.

Listening to: Bend Down the Branches from the album Tales From The Riverside (Bootleg)
by Tom Waits

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sendoff

Last night there was another bunch of yelling and throwing exploding things from the boys dorm. It didn’t go on for as long this time so I didn’t get as good video as last time. But I also didn’t get caught taping by security people, so that’s good.

My packing is going very well. It’s amazing the space you have in a bag when you’ve decided you’ll be wearing all the warm stuff you own.

Listening to: 16 Shells From A Thirty Ought Six / Rain Dogs / Jesus Blood Never Failed Me Yet (Live)
from the album Tales From The Underground (Bootleg) by Tom Waits

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the denial of ugly

Tonight around 6:30pm there was the most wonderful power outage in the little block of restaurants by the college.

Every restaurant around here is a variation on the “white room with bright flourescent lights and a blaring TV” theme. The main difference is the tables and chairs. Some are yellow and others have blue trim.

But with the power out, all of these places were suddenly filled with slowly flickering yellow light. There was no electric buzz and you could hear people talk as they hunched close to the light.

I took complete advantage of the situation and since most food is cooked on gas (or at least whatever I order is) it didn’t affect my meal. I revelled in how it felt like I was somewhere beautiful.

The overhead lights eventually did come on and the candles were whisked away. There were a few noises of delight outside but they didn’t seem genuine. The TVs returned to blaring, and I’d finished eating so I left.

And it fit that I’d been reading Paul Bowles romanticize his laments over the loss of old things in strange lands.

Listening to: Trampled Rose from the album Real Gone
by Tom Waits

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three vikings

I only have one class left to teach! Word on the street is that next semester I might be teaching another reading course. I hope so. Now I have ideas about what kinds to do for it. Not being stuck with newspapers would be wunderbar. I definitely won’t be teaching newspapers and will be teaching American Culture next term. Well, as definite as anything here is.

I really hope that I don’t have crappy days with three classes again though. Now it’s just a storm of marking to get through. W00t!

Listening to: I Ain’t Goin’ Down to the Well No More from the album Tales From The Riverside (Bootleg)
by Tom Waits

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