a free form jazz odyssey in front of a festival crowd

I was all over the universe that is New York today. I was recording an interview for a Latin Jazz documentary, and recieved word last night that the dude was up in the Bronx. The gig was not difficult- record someone answering questions while someone on the phone in England asks the questions. The work is the easy part.

The day began waking up in Brooklyn, my throat is the weirdest type of sore ever. Its like my throat pain has extended to my tounge, slowly moving forward until it envelops my whole body. So, I woke up in this crap-0-licious state and had to pack up my gear very quickly. I have a lot og crap to bring. In case the computer fails, I bring a DAT and what not, audio geek stuff. Its also raining out. The train up to the Bronx is a long one, and I am running on the late side. All this time, I imagine getting off the train and being mugged for all the recording equipment I own, which is on my back.

I have never actually ridden the subway up that far. Mainly because I would be kind of out of place in most of the places it goes once you get past manhattan, and easily most parts of Harlem. There were 3 school kids on the train once we got past 125th street, bragging of their badass train antics. They were probably about 13. They each tried to do flips using the hand rails. 2 succeeded, while the other who was slightly heavier said “You want me to try that? I’ll break this goddamn train!” We all got a good chuckle.

So all my fears were completely based on prejudice. It was a very nice suburban section of the Bronx. The interviewee was a very cool Afro Latin drummer, who described himself as a “New York Rican”. The interview lasted 2 very long hours while i sat on the floor with my laptop. Afterwards, he gave me a tour of the house, and took me out to breakfast/lunch at 3pm. We discussed Frank Zappa and I heard some weird Jazz World stories. So after that, He had to go back down to Manhattan, so I hitched a ride, and heard some extreme gossip about the latin jazz world while he was on the phone. If i remembered the names of the people, I could totally sell that shit to the tabloid press in Argentina. So he said we were going to manhattan, so i figured like midtown, right?

His rehearsal was at the Manhattan school of music. If manhattan were the empite state building, the Manhattan school of music would be at the antenna right at the top. I had to walk up to Harlem just to catch the train. Harlem was actually kind of cool right there, so no complaints. So that takes our journey from The Bronx, to Harlem, to Manhattan, on the train over to Queens to get the G train down to the hood, known as Brooklyn. I got home and collapsed. My throat felt like it would soon leave my body, I became light headed. While feeling this way on the subway platform, its a wonder i didn’t topple over onto the tracks, being topheavy from my bag which weighed about 265 lbs. Ok, that was a joke, but it easily approached 240lbs.

I had a good discussion with my roomate just now. I dont really know him at all, but he was telling me about law school, which he seems very frustrated with today. He basically said he hates lawyers, a sentiment I have shared since the mayor of my town called me a schmuck for not selling a phish ticket and selling out my friend in the process- leaving me with a personal vendetta that i shall not give up until death, partly causing me to give him the nickname McCheese, but anyway…(deep breath)… He told me that going into law school, about 50% of people want to be public defenders, but coming out, only about 6 % are. His words of advice were “If you meet someone that says ‘ I Love The Law’ be very cautious around those people” His point was, people who loved the law and interpreted it strictly, were the same who put martin luther king in jail, held up segregation, things like that- they are not always the ones pushing society forward, because justice doesnt always abide by the written law…..Go Kent. My girlfriend says he looks like Waldo, I would have to agree, but who doesnt thing Waldo kicks ass?

I am learning more about the post college life each day. One important thing is, time goes by very quickly. It has been about 8 months since i graduated, it feels less than 8 minutes. Life has completely changed, and so much has happened on all fronts, but it still feels lke no time has gone by. whuteva

I had my 2nd Billy Martin lesson last week. It went better than the first, because I eventually got over the fact that i was sitting in a small room with my freaking percussive idol. The problem is, the initial shock is still there. You know how it is when you go to see your favorite band, and they walk out on stage? Its like “READY TO ROCK!!!! AAAAHHHH” well, that feeling does not translate well to having to perform. this is exactly the first 3 minutes of arriving at the house.

(Steve rings bell, Billy answers door)
S:Hey
B:Hey (Shakes Hand)
small child is sitting in kitchen doorway
B: (Insert small child name here), This is Steve, you met him, right?
S:(to small child) Hey
SC: (Extremely sarcasticly for a 5 yr old) Hey
B: adjust what you want on the kit (goes to say goodbye to SC who is going off to school)
B: Ok, Play me a solo, tell a story

Thats it. No little discussion to get things going, just hello, lets rock. I have mentioned on this blog before how cool i think it is when kids make fun of older people, and his son did just that. So, that was fun. BUT, its some extreme pressure to walk in and have to play a drum solo, something I am not at all used to. But, i got in a small groove, and ended it a bit weak. I sort of blacked out, and I have absolutely NO recollection of what I played.
He commented much better than last time (in which i totally ripped of one of his beats in a lame ass groove attempt). He basically said be more agressive, just get on the kit and tear it up, right away, none of this weak stuff, you fucking slacker, why can’t you rock!!???
well, not in those words, but you get the idea. I think i’m past the intimidation thing, mainly because I practiced the stuff he gave me for a long time. My mind is now set to learn some badass stuff, unfortunately, lessons are hella expensive, so I can only learn and progress once a month at most.

Much else is happening, lets discuss.

Throughout life, people will fuck with you, its pretty much a given, right? Sometimes its because they genuinely don’t like you, sometimes its out of differences in morals, sometimes its downright insecurity. All I can say is, sometimes the phrase “To Each His Own” is all you can go by. Let me share a story with you.
In college, I had a roomate in an apartment after I moved off campus (damn you housing lottery!) We were good friends at first, but as moving in with someone often does, it created problems. Our morals were overall the same, but we differed on some key issues. Namely that of illegal substances. That has never been my thing, I got all my ya ya’s out when I was way too young to be doing things like that, but most go through it in the college years. Also, I was in a period in life where I was being crushed by the Man, and felt need to almost give in.
So we fought. Oh yes, we fought. Many hurtful things were said on both ends, some things were broken, someone got smacked with a leg of lamb (not really, but can you imagine? oh man, best knockout ever). Soooo, this roomate moved out, and we didnt talk for over a year. Then, recently we began to talk again. We each realized that the other had some beliefs we did not share, but if we didnt try to push those on the other, all would be good. My point is, fuck with others if you will, but only do it for childish reasons. Make fun of someone’s shirt, their taste in music, movies, or books, but leave the beliefs alone. (as far as religion, only make fun of Jesus, he’s pretty much fair game)

I avoided all specifics in this story to protect the innocent/not really innocent, but here is one, it happens to be one of my best lines ever. One day, I found some illegal substances in the fridge, my sanctuary locker of non illegal substance. a fight soon began, and I uttered the line “Dude, I don’t keep my food with your drugs, keep the drugs away from my food”. I still enjoy that one.

Also, go to Harry Shearer’s website www.harryshearer.com and download “Heck Of A Job” its freaking hilarious. Its his ode to Michael Brown

Its a bit passed midnight, I recently took some cold medicine that may cause drowsiness, so who knows where this will go.

I am feeling similar to Poo. I’m getting sick, some sort of virus type of dealy, hopefully it will go away in 20 min. The drum lesson is tomorrow, I practiced for an hour tonight in my craptastic state, and made a few breakthroughs, I hope I dont look like a tool once again.

Now, about last night…Lets begin with the dissappointments. First and foremost, Trey Anastasio. His new material just seems uninspired, he lost something. We actually left during his set to prevent the tainting of any back in the day memories. Dave Matthews, and particularly his fans, I have had enough of that garbage. His fans do not appreciate anything except the DMB, they can all go to hell. His set followed the TW, and really, who is gonna follow that? Here is a transcript of a conversation between myself and my homey Dave during the Matthews set. The part of Steve will be played by S, the part of Dave on this special occasion is played by the letter D

D: Dude, where is the keg?
S: I dont know, have you seen my white hat?
D: I think you left it at the frat house
S: Shit, is there an abercrombie around here?
D: This place IS an Abercrombie

We proceeded to sit in near silence for the rest of his set until Trey came out and disgraced a few Phish songs. Oy Vey

But the Waits, wow. As the curtain rose, Waits was in the center of the stage with the band already playing, tilted to one side clapping like an escaped mental patient. He looked exactly like his voice sounds- completely insane. They opened with “Down In The Hole” an oldie but goodie. Its amazing how is Lo Fi sound was still captured on a giant stage in front of thousands of people. Althought there were many feedback problems, almost causing him to leave the stage, it was an event I will never forget. When he sat at the upright piano to do a few ballads, you could feel the joy in the house. He closed his set with “House Where Nobody Lives” and dudes, lets be honest, I had to hold back some tears. Listen to the Mule Variations album and try not to get emotional. Take an hour right now, go ,do it, then come back……..
See, you got all emotional didn’t you? I thought so.

He left the stage, me and the Waits fans in my section (which consisted of myself and Dave) stood up, and did not stop clappinng. You know how sometimes its like “ok, i know he’s gonna come out for an encore, so i can back off on the applause” this was not the case. His set was in the middle of the show, so he easily could have not come back, but I was not gonna let that shit happen. The minotiy of the crowd gave a shit, but those who did gave it all they had. Finally, he returned to do “Make It Rain” and fucking rocked the house.

It was probably the best 45 minutes I have seen anyone play. You can’t top that.

Lets start off with 4 points about music, inspired by the ipod set on shuffle.

1. Iron Maiden’s “Run To The Hills” is an intense political song. I have to hand it to Bruce Dickenson, yes THE Bruce Dickenson for the commentary on the Native American struggle. Next time big G-W comments on how this country is based on “Freedom and Liberty” listen to Run To The Hills, put on some leather and shiny metal spikes, and pump your fist in anger.

2. The 2nd chord of a song is by far the most important. It can totally change your conception of a song upon first hearing it. First chord, whuteva, 2nd, whoa.

3. Songs in which the last line is the title of the song, badass. Watch out, i’m going to give a Ska reference, you might want to sit down (which since you’re at a computer you probably are already). The Specials “Little Bitch”- the last verse is pretty good, the whole song leads up to the hook which includes the title.

4. Tom Waits is the master of weird-ass lyrics. Telephone Call from Istanbul is a prime example. Something about shaving your head, and not driving a car when you’re dead, very interesting, more on the TW later.

I just returned from a late breakfast excursion to the local deli up here on 49th street, and came to quite a realization, here is the back story. Upon entering the deli, I ran into a horde of high school kids, possibly from NJ since they were so goddamn obnoxious. Females with way too many accessories and makeup, dudes who were a tad on the flamboyant side. When I say Tad, I mean like a freaking ton. Now, lets state this for certain, sexual preference is not even a thing to me, to each his/her own, makes 0% difference to me. But, if you are a high school age guy, wearing eye shadow, a bright pink polo with the collar flipped up, a green tie and some weird color hair, you’re basically the same as a frat boy. Whats that he says? Let me explain.

The two lie at the equal and opposite end of the spectrum. The frat boy, in his natural habitat dresses like a tool with his white hat and amercrombie shirt, shorts and sandals, talks in his macho tone about football, beer, and chicks. These kids I saw at the deli, dress like tools in their fluorescent colored polo shirts with the flipped up collar, talk in their flamboyant tone about blah blah blah. See? I think i’m right on with this. Maybe it was just the flipped up collar and the fact that this kid was talking very loud, that tends to bother me, no matter who its coming from.

Had dinner at a homie’s house last night, uneventful and not at all living on the edge style, except for the Absynthe they put on the table. I tried a bit, lets just say, stay away from it. It does not tase good. The description I was given before trying it was “It kind of feels like it burns a whole through whatever you have eaten once you drink it” well, that is pretty much right on. Now, I am not one to crunk it often, despite the motto of this blog, but it affected me in an unconventional way. I felt slower than normal. I did not feel good. The contents of my stomach remained in tact mind you, and I woke up without a problem, but the combination of Steve Weiss and Wormwood shall not have a rematch in the near future.

Tonight is the Radio City Benefit featuring Galactic, the Meters, Trey-Bone (kind of like Tbone without the internet capabilities- i dont think Trey even has an email address), Some shit like Dave Matthews, and The Actual Tom Waits. I feel like a little kid again, going to see Aerosmith for the first time. I’m not dressed very cool for the occasion, I wore my gym shoes in case i get time to go there before the show and after work, but hopefuly if i meet him they won’t look at my feet. FUCK, you know what? Tom Waits is actually a big fan of nice shoes, i’m not even making that up. Did you ever see that Roy Orbison black and white concert in which Waits performs? The only thing he says in the movie is “Did you see Roy? He was wearing a 2000$ pair of shoes!” Once again, I have the potential to look completely uncool in front of someone I look up to. Past experiences have included opening with the line “Dude…”, wearing the shirt of my own band, trying to rip off their style while playing in fron of them like a tool, and I’m sure the list will continue long into the future.

You know what, I have to apologize. Yesterday I was persuaded into including an anticdote about a friend in the blog. I like to call this Blog-ola, kind of like Payola, only no money was involved. There might be some produce related food, because you know I am a whore for that. My point is, thats not what SteveWeiss.org is all about. As we know, its about Money, Gettin Crunk, and similar activities, but not about selling out to the man, ironically what the afore mentioned post was about. Much like barry bonds, when he confessed to steroids, I believe the metaphorical home runs I hit with the previous post should not be counted toward my overall blog quality. From this day forth I shall not be bribed into blogging for no reason at all. There may be a friend related story thats not about the adventures of myself and Web Master T Bone, but there will be just mothafuckin cause behind it.

What have we learned today kids? You can’t buy your way into Steveweiss.org without a fair amount of money. or food. or art supplies like the Eberhard Faber Blackwing 602- which you can buy a box of 12 on ebay for 300$. Anyone? Anyone?

let me tell you why Tom Waits is my hero.

Recently, General Motors produced a series of commercials, in which a character speaks in a growl-ish voice, screaming and whatnot. They approached Mr Waits to do the voice- it is afterall what he is known for. Waits denied the bastards, they got someone who sounds like him. Now, lest we forget intellectual property rights? Waits sued those mofos this week. His quote was “”Commercials are an unnatural use of my work, it’s like having a cow’s udder sewn to the side of my face. Painful and humiliating.” Tom, it is well worth the 50 bucks I paid to see you tomorrow (at a benefit show, in which all proceeds go to charity). Never backing down, Waits continued, “Apparently, the highest compliment our culture grants artists nowadays is to be in an ad–ideally naked and purring on the hood of a new car. I have adamantly and repeatedly refused this dubious honor. Currently accepting in my absence is my German doppelganger. While the court can’t make me active in radio, I am asking it to make me radioactive to advertisers.”

It just goes to show you, there are still some people out there who believe art is more important than money. You write a song called “Christmas Card From A Hooker In Minneapolis” because you want to tell a story, not sell it to a faceless corporation. Kudos to you TW, stick it to the man. Now, if you needed a strong arm for your loansharking company, Waits probably could do it, or at least knows someone who could, but he probably wouldn’t charge you 25% per week. Also, let’s not forget that Waits sued Frito-Lay for ripping off his trademark vocal style a few years ago, and was awarded 2.5 million dollars. Don’t mess with the man.

I have my 2nd lesson with Billy Martin of Medeski Martin Wood this Thursday, and I haven’t practiced nearly enough. I feel like a kid in middle school who hasn’t done his book report. I woke up early today to go over some clave patterns, I brought the charts he gave me to work, I’m staying up late wednesday to drill that stuff. This is like cramming for a test, only I don’t get graded- I just look like a complete tool in front of my drumming idol.

Hey dudes, If you read the blog, why don’t you stop being a lurker and leave a comment? How else am I supposed to know you read this thing? Maybe you can stop beating up crackheads who haven’t paid you back for a freaking second and hit the leave a comment button? eh? eh?

Listen G, I have a blog, deal with it, if you want, we can fight about it.
I caught some blog flack recently, to which I say, Eat It. T Bone gots my back, answer to him

Many blog posts begin stating it has been a while since the last update, and this will be no exception. It has been a while since the last update. Much has happened, and much has not. I have eaten many things and seen many bands, both delicious and not.

I was riding on the subway the other day, and there was a frat-ish looking guy in workout type clothes, sporting an ipod sitting across from me. This is no strange occurance. So, we each go about our day, and suddenly he bursts into the chorus of “What Would You Say” by the one and only Dave Matthews Band. Normally when people sing randomly, its something obscure that I don;t know, but this was the first crazy ass top 40 subway singer I have encountered. Needless to say, it was a little awkward. I quickly fled the train at my stop to transfer to the bus. Lo and behold, Subway Top 40 man followed me, now singing the Barenaked Ladies song that goes – “Its all been done aah ooh ooh OOH!” wow. He wasnt even just singing to himself, it was like full blown belting. I was going to ask him to join the band, but I was advised against it.

Back in the day, I was heavily involved in the Jamband scene. I traded the tapes when people were stilll on cassette, went to all the shows, drove ridiculous distances for multiple night runs, you know, stuff like that. But in the recent months/years the appeal has faded. The druggies bothered me, the music became uninspired since phish came off hiatus. But Friday night, whoa. I saw this band The Duo on a boat, my mind was blown. The drummer Joe Russo, who i met a long time ago back in the day, was just fantastic. Listen to their song “Becky”, find it on the internet, G.

Now, lets take a little trip back in time. During high school, I met a friend, lets call her Rice. We met in an econimics and human behavior class (half a year of each) We became good friends shortly after she bit my arm, leaving a bruise which I had to explain to my girlfriend at the time. From then on, it has been a steady mix of friendship and violence. Now, today she told me she is getting into the loan shark business, a concept i find interesting. Her past careers include Marijuana Farmer, Knock Off hand bag salesman, attempted pimp, and a brief stint where she would make out with other girls for $$ (keep in mind it was a lot of money, as high as 15$ in some cases). I have no problem with illegal activity that sticks it to the man, I myself have been known to Jaywalk on occasion. But loansharking, that’s a little rough. As this is happening, I’m putting together a little scrapbook to give to her kids of each thing. I’m going to secretly frame the threatening letter that Chanel sent her, copy the police report when she got caught with 5 lbs of marijuana in the school parking lot, you know, stuff like that.
But loansharking? isn’t that a little rough? like what if people don’t pay you? Her dude, lets call him Mavid, is a strong dude i’m sure, but not really “strongarm” material. Maybe they can hire Clublife? anyway…more on this as it develops.

The girl went to New Zealand this week, so i’ll have a lot more time to blog- there will be no whining though. Thats not what STEVEWEISS.ORG is all about. Its about FOOD god dammit. Food and Money. Food Money and Getting Crunk.

SteveWeiss.org- where you go to learn about food, money, and gettin Crunk.

So all I will say about the big tragedy is that we lost a very important piece of American culture. Jazz would not exist if it were not for New Orleans, and probably any other form of American music. I slacked on going to Jazz fest, or my slacker friends wouldn’t make the trip, sooo, we missed out. Shit.

Went to see Leo Nocentelli from the Meters, the legendary N.O. band, with 4/5 of Galactic as his back up band at BB Kings, last night. First off, Stanton Moore is officially the best drummer of this generation. Yes, he can shred if necessary, but his ideas on the kit are just freaking outstanding. In 30 years, he will be the next Elvin Jones. Sean Pelton- the drummer from SNL, the dude who always wears the old school news boy looking hat, showed up and sat in for one song. He is one of the top session drummers, plays with EVERYONE and you could tell he felt very nervous about having to follow Stanton. I did however learn a very important lesson at this show:
The random person standing next to you makes all the difference in the world.

Lets examine this theory. I have been to several hundred shows, not counting crappy-ass ska/punk shows put on by dirty ass punks who think they can make a difference politically by not showering and wearing shirts that say things like “Choking Victim”, but lets not get started on that. I’ve stood next to the drunk biker at the Gov’t Mule show when I was 13 who wanted to push me out of the way so his fat ass drunk girlfried could throw herself all over the stage, nice families at Wilco shows who make sure everyone stays quiet during the quiet parts, Little Pete dropping acid at a Phish show, and all those in between.

Last night there was a girl from New Orleans standing next to me and my sister. She was talking a bit, dancing around like a crazy jamband type of fan, yelling things occasionally that I could not at all understand, asking me to save her spot when she went to the bar,but it wasnt too bad. Little did I know what was to come. At the second set she left and some drunk ass dude, and his drunk bitch ass ho moved in. As they approached, they spilled beer on my sister. They proceed to sit on the stage and make out to a degree that far surpasses any form of acceptable PDA. She’s slurring her speech, looking like Long Island’s Finest witht the turquoise tube top, excessive amount of jewlery, and the loudest shrieking voice that exists this side of the Hudson. As they defiled the stage and Leo returned, she goes “Why are these guys coming back? Wheres Galactic? ” I said Galactic isnt playing” I omitted “You Trick Ass Ho, get out of here”. She was holding several drinks, each arranged on the stage in front of her, which just spelled spillage. Lo And Behold, 15 minutes later, BEER ALL OVER THE FLOOR. could it have been one of the small shots or half empty mixed drinks? no. It had to bee the full plastic cup of freaking beer. She then slurred “sorrrrry, honey, why did you make me do that? now youuuuuu have to get anotherrr”

I’ve been having some weird nightmares recently. I slept on a couch in Boston 2 nights ago, and the result was not pleasant. In this dream, every person in the house was walking past me and exiting through the front door, each time the door was opened, the season would change. So when it was snowing out, I got up to sleep in the snow. Dont ask me why, I’m weird like that. So, i’m sleeping in the snow, and this Corvette pulls up right in front of me, and this guido named Frank gets out and starts harassing me. I start to freak out and he’s trying to fight me, with his slicked up hair and gold chain, then I woke up, because one of the people in the house was walking by me, and opened the front door. That was fucking freaky.

So yeah, I went to Boston. Its very interesting to go back to your old college town. I took the fabulous Chinatown Bus up there, which is now semi-legit arriving in South Station instead of Sketch-tastic chinatown, but is now 15$ instead of $10. I put my brain on semi auto pilot and took the T to Harvard Square to meet my homeboy BUD. Now, recently, I’ve been suffering from what I like to call “Snoop Dog Syndrome” or SDS as I like to call it. Sufferers of SDS experience the need to add “Izzle” to words or letters, at random times. So, I almost called BUD, B-U-Dizzle. I made a mix CD which was the 3rd in a series and called it Mix Thrizzle. Now, ebonics coming from a while Jewish kid with big hair, is kind of like Lil John talking Yiddish, saying “Oy Vey” in his signature style. I’m trying to fight it, we’ll see how it works.