old time relijun at the voodoo

wo man wo man wo man. i just love live music. nothin’ (ok well almost nothin’…) puts a smile on my face like watchin’ musicians groove. my ass just wantsta move as the vibrations run through my body. i just beam when the vibe is good, and the musicians can see it too.
last night, i went down to the local hipster haunt called after an african religious tradition transplanted in caribbean soil and watched some olympians get get get down. a three piece called old time relijun, touring on their newest release 2012. and wo man were they on. i absolutely loved arrington’s comment (guitar and voacals) about being kinda a dance band (not like any dance band you ever heard…lessin’ you listen to some riteous weird tunes) and that you should get up if the music moves you; otherwise, you can sit there like you are watchin’ a movie.
reminds me of a comment that was made at the fifth anniversary ladyfest in olympia last weekend…it all started there and like another olympia institution procession of species it has gone worldwide…no lie. the comment was made about how the music scene in olympia encourages interaction of all kinds, from singing along, to clappin’, stompin’ with the rhythm section, to shakin’ yo ass. and wo man was the gossip fuckin’ on fire, von iva was pretty damn hot too. but then the whole scene made me feel like i was home again. i miss oly fiercely, like my friend wardog said, “this is the spiritual capital of cascadia.”
music, especially live music is a participatory event, not some spectator sport. when i first arrived in cascadia (pacific northwest for you non-bioregionalists), i was struck by the lack of dancing at concerts in seattle. people just sort of milled about or sat in their seats. it didn’t seem any where near as lively as some of the shows i had been to in houston…one particularly good show by bad mutha goose and the brothers grimm at the axiom where it was sooo hot and sweaty (the music, not the temp) i was up on a stack of pa’s just movin’ and groovin’. that was one blissful night of delicious music.
when i saw kíla recently in eugene, i had seats really close to the stage. there was an area in front of the stage that was perfect for dancin’… and well their music is ripe for a good ass shakin’. my friends and i and many others danced during the first set. we were approached by a staff member and told we could dance but we would have to do it in a wing off to the right of the stage. now i had paid good money for these tix, and where i was sittin’ was certainly far better than where i was being asked to dance. we asked the people in the front row if they were bothered by our dancing. they said no. but we were told we either had to dance stageleft or ask the band to let us dance on stage.
now as an old theater student this was just taboo. it would detract attention from the musicians. we asked rónán (bodhran, percussion and vocals) if we could dance on stage, he said he didn’t mind us dancin’ in front, and that the band said it was ok. checked with the staff. no dice. well we ended up dancin’ on stage. much to my chagrin. it was a lovely night and the band appreciated our contribution. although you could tell they thought it odd to have all these yanks shakin’ and twitchin’ on the stage with them. needless to say i will never go see a show in that venue again.
so next time you are out and about and hear sweet music coming from some bar or dance hall. stick your head in, if the band is on and the groove takes you…get your ass on the dance floor (no parking mind ya!) and show the musicians that you can feel the music in your body and are moved by it. like rumi says the voice in your ear is pounding on your ear drum, is this not intimate?

just a bit of poetry

one from my weekend at ladyfest in oly. pallas had fallen asleep during barbara lynn (wasn’t her style of music she would later tell me), the second to last set. she was with a group of girls she had taken a drum workshop with earlier in the day. then there was our neighbor and some other luminaries of the scene. acquaintances of what were mutual friends.
we had discussed, pallas and i just such an incidence. and agreed that there was no need to take her home before the end of the night. she would sleep through the last set and then we would go. but the looks that i received were just so accusatory. she was sitting away from me, but i knew she was safe, what with it being her community and she so well known and liked, not to mention it was ladyfest.
i stayed for the last set, i wasn’t about to miss the gossip, as i had missed them earlier this year…i think it was about an ex, but can’t remember. anywho a song or two through i went and sat behind her on the back of a chair to watch the set instead of dancing. one of those acquaintances later came and sat by her as if to protect her, guess i still wasn’t doing what was thought to be necessary…

pushed aside – not a seat left
capitol theater ladyfest olympia, wa friday 29july2005

why does this town seem
poisoned to me
what words have been
whispered about me
the judgments of others
concerning my actions
fatherhood’s responsibilities
questioned by those
who only know my story in
secondhand whispers
so easy to look at others
for blame for fault
it seems that they fail
to see i am here
i am here with her
sharing this life
it is something i said
so long ago when
the split was in the
making beginning
this action that you
take will last
and this home i love so
will become closed
the looks that others throw
me say it all
why isn’t he more of her
father here more
easy to scapegoat the one
pushed aside

last night i went to see old time relijun, an oly band. one of whose members is father to one of pallas’ occasional playmate acquaintances. we chatted before the show, he remembered who i was but not having met. that first meeting ofcourse wouldn’t be memorable it was in the lobby of the capitol theater…where the previous incident took place as well…he had just finished his set at yoyoagogo and i bought the album from which i requested a song last night. the mood of this is much different.

old time relijun at the voodoo
voodoo lounge astoria, or friday 05august2005

at the mouth of the columbia
in a room named after
african magick transplanted
olympia comes to roost
in the form of another claw
an old time relijun
crooning and cawing loudly
the shrieks destined
to drive madness of the day
far away across the water
churned by nighttime breezes
the whites of their eyes
showing as the tides move in
and i feel my own tide
change course in my cloister
the detritus of yesterdays
driven away finally finished
and in that moment i take off
like a phoenix risen from ashes
i fly towards a new brightness

in response

a response to a fellow d.s. (sorta like the d.a. in harry potter) member’s comment on blogdom or blogdum as he might say…and then maybe it is just more shite from my damned head-ache.

karl rove is the most despicable human being currently in existence on this small green and blue marble of a planet in the vast and unknown universe we inhabit.
so we stare at the moon and think it is giving us light when in fact it is the reflection of a star burning brilliantly enough to have set all that we see in motion. but even the bright light which brought forth all that we see and feel and touch and taste can be obscured by this grey dust ball of leftovers that pulls you and i in like fashion.
and the tide runs in and out of the mouth of the columbia as i sit in my lonely room thinking of my sunshine, but as robert smith oh so succinctly points out in a forest “the girl was never there/it’s allways the same…again and again and again (+20 more times)”
ah well time to get back up and dust off those knees, go out and find something new to distract you from the work we all know is far too important to slack on.
get up damnit and get busy, your daughter’s future demands it, the whole damned planet’s future demands it…oh so speciocentric…k maybe just humanity as is currently in season needs (but does not demand) it. get get get get get get get get get busy ya’ll.

we are the stars which sing
we sing with our light
we are the birds of fire
we fly over the sky
our light is a voice
we make a road for the spirit to pass over
{alqonquian indian}