Having fallen behind for the last ten or so days, you'll just have to assume that my life is either pretty important or at the least more interesting than the life of a person who keeps coming here looking for points of interest to bring up at dinner parties where you play the role of ivy-league-educated upper-middle-class thirty-something-mom on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Anyway, here's a little recap of what you've been missing.
4. Well, actually, yeah I guess you're right. Starring might be a slight exaggeration. It's important to be encouraging though. I think it brings out the best in people.
5. Speaking of The OFLC, thanks to a certain stage manager who forgot to get her voter registration changed from the great state of Illinois to the even greater state of New York, Steve Jackson and I lost the NY State gubernatorial election by one vote.
5(.5). Thanks a lot.
6. In unrelated news, you'll be relieved to know that Christine O'Donnell is still making the front page of The Huffington Postbecause she's appearing on a show running opposite a show hosted by a guy who used to rely on Al Roker but now can afford to run about a hundred and twenty seven ads on the front page of the Huffington Post.
8. You too can find fashionable accessories for me to wear at the next Mother Feather show at The Dressing Room. Located on Orchard St. just south of Broome, The Dressing Room is your one stop shop for vintage bedazzlement (See accompanying photo), new designs from new designers and a fully stocked bar. Tell them I sent you and I pretty much guarantee that no one will care.
9. The movie Jackass 2.5 is pretty depressing.
10. I swear to god I saw one of the guys from Atomic Tom at a house warming party the other night. I think he plays the Sony Walkman, but I was too nervous to talk to him and find out for sure. Luckily for us, they've become too busy to perform at this week's edition of The OFLC. We totally didn't want them on the show anyway.
11. The net point I'm gonna make is something I like to call: Foreshadowing.
Speaking of punch lines, today is the day after my variety show got banned from the only venue that I ever wanted to do the show in. In case you hadn't heard about it, the show was called The Old Fashioned Ladies Club. It was a music centric variety show, featuring sketch comedy and a smattering of vaudeville. Since we just did the show on Wednesday night, I'm pretty sure I still remember everything that I remember happening. Which may or may not be what ended up on film. But since I was educated in the greatest public school system in the history of revisionist history, I know that no one really cares if you get the story right. You just need a pretty good punch line.
Anyway, if you don't mind shutting up for about five seconds, I'll give you my version of Wednesday night in a little segment I like to call: "The Rise And Fall Of The Old Fashioned Ladies Club Featuring The Recollections Of Matt Basile" ...
Let's start with the superlatives shall we? Yes. We shall. Because this is my forum and I will do whatever I want and no one can ever not tell me to my face that they don't like what I have to say.
Anyway. Let's get back to what I think...
For August 18th, 2010's The Old Fashioned Ladies Club:
The award for Best Female Vocal Of A Theme Song goes to: Misty Boyce
The award for Best Comedy Sketch Involving A Violin Bow and A Shout Out To Palm Bay, FL goes to: Casey Spindler
The award for Best Looking Guitar Solo goes to: Mark Marshall
The award for Best ...
(Editor's Note: This edition of "Experiment's In Self Aggrandizement By Matt Basile" was interrupted yesterday so that I could play a gig with Mother Feather at Mercury Lounge. I am now going to try to get back into the proverbial "zone" here and finish my story about being banned from Rockwood Music Hall by listening to the new CeeLo track on repeat.)
... Interpretative Dance Involving Scarves goes to: Abby Ahmad
The award for Best Sponsor Activation goes to: Casey Shea
The award for Best Drummer Over 6' 7" Tall goes to: Chris Benelli
The award for Best Paper Mache Ball By An Engaged Stage Manager goes to: Angela Cheng
The award for Best Bass Performance Despite Jet-Lag goes to: Tony Maceli
The award for Best Comedy Skit Involving Multiple Layers Of Socio-Political Commentary That No One Really Got But Still Garnered A Great Laugh goes to: Luke Wesley
The award for Best Critique Of The OFLC goes to: Pierre
And finally, the award for Best Execution Of The Principles Of Method Acting goes to: Michael Vitacco
In related news, did I mention that I started a variety show at Rockwood Music Hall and we got banned after the opening night? Pretty cool huh? Well, in case you haven't been there, you should know that Rockwood Music Hall is really nice. So nice in fact that, in the warm glow of it's well appointed antique lighting, plush red velvet walls, a truly marvelous wrought iron balcony with accompanying staircase and augmented by a particularly inventive make-shift spotlight held on high by the world's first "Human Applause Sign", a small town guy like me can suddenly be transformed so as to look so good that he gets mistakenly identified as a cross between Warren Beatty and Mick Jagger by a lovely patron who may or may not have literally crawled onto the stage in order to sink her pearly whites into the soft flesh of my buttocks.
Anyway, the show is called The Old Fashioned Ladies Club. And aside from a few rookie mistakes, the fact that I remember a lot of people laughing through pretty much the whole thing makes me think the show went pretty well. So, with that in mind, we're gonna look for a new venue. Hopefully you'll be interested in coming to see us there too.
(Editor's Note: Have you heardthis song...?
Mwah!
M
P.S. This guyis living proof that if you just shut up and write some good and then get up on stage in front of 200 strangers and sing your ass off for 40 minutes, you can sell every last copy of your new CD at a merchandise table that didn't even have a representative from your record label staffing.
P.P.P.S. I'm playing with Nick Africano tomorrow night.
P.P.P.P.S. I'm playing Muddy Waters tunes with Mark Marshall on Monday.
P.P.P.P.P.S. Oh, and I'm singing one too.
P.P.P.P.P.P.S. If you could see me now, I'm pooping my pants.
P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Not really. That's a figure of speech meant to demonstrate my reverence for Muddy Waters and how I am nervous to sing one of his songs.
P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. I did however just finish a pretty big cup of coffee so in a few minutes I will probably actually be pooping.
P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. As you may have heard, I was a little distracted on August 18th... Please let the record show that I am proud to share the anniversary of the start and end of The OFLC with your hot mom's birthday!
(ED Note: If you don't have a lot of time on your hands today or you like Mexicans from Brazil, just skip to the P.S. section. You're welcome.
Additional ED Note: Man there were a lot of typos in this first draft. Sorry.)
Hi,
It took so long for me to get online here at the other cafe I sometimes go to which is the same one where I may or may not have gotten food poisoning back on Father's Day that I had almost forgotten everything I was planning to write about today. Lucky for you I have a near photographic memory for anything I want to imagine through the lens of my own desires, needs and/or experiences, just like you do, except I'm clearly grown up enough to admit it and you still need people to say things like "De-Nial ain't just a river in Egypt!" about 17 times a week.
Anyway, this four eyes with the lame t-shirt from the 2006 Urban Outfitters "I am trying to fit in" line of men's clothing is apparently my competition in something called the blogosphere:
I wonder how many people click on his amazon.com link conveniently located in the right hand margin of his page? Maybe it's more than me? Maybe we could team up and help one another make more money, have more success and together find a little piece of something called happiness? Or I could tie a bunch of these flimsy straws together and use them to strangle him from behind while no ones looking at him or his dumb blog.
In related news, if you can name the sayer of the forthcoming quote on a topic that unless you're totally freaking stoned, you'll probably figure out for yourself, which actually makes a kind of, you know, sense, I'll buy you a gum ball.
“Well, if we’re talking about pot, I’m not for the legalization of pot because I think that that would just encourage, especially, our young people to think that it was OK to go ahead and use it. And I’m not an advocate for that. However, I think that we need to prioritize our law enforcement efforts. And if somebody’s gonna smoke a joint in their house and not do anybody else any harm, then perhaps there are other things that our cops should be looking at to engage in and try to clean up some of the other problems that we have in society that are appropriate for law enforcement to do and not concentrate on such a, relatively speaking, minimal problem that we have in the country.”
In related news, unless it's possible to have a person that is only .97 of an actual person, I'm pretty sure that Pat Buchanan is in the market for a new math tutor:
Which reminds me of a completely different article I am only about half way finished reading and may or may not have provided the preceding link which may or may not represent the views of the writer or editorial slant of imbasile.com.
By the way, if you've never visited imbasile.com, you should totally check it out. Not only is it a great resource for news analysis, a greater resource for gloating over the 2010 Los Angeles Lakers championship and an infinitely greater resource on where to see great electric bass playing in NYC, occasionally the dude who writes it posts photos of himself and, while it may seem surprising to hear from me, he just keeps getting better looking with age. One grey hair at a time. And I'm sure he never wakes up and spends 20 minutes in front of the mirror counting them.
Anyway, we (and by we I mean I) were talking about where I got the link to the article about all these women who've decided that they don't want to look pretty anymore. I got that from this article which was incidentally sent to me by a very pretty girl. Since this is a family orientated enterprise, I can't actually tell you the name of the website where I am reading the article but if you click anywhere on this the lower third of this sentence you will be taken to the article. The only thing I find problematic about the article is that it took so long (something on the order of six paragraphs) to use the word problematic. Fortunately for all of you "English As A First Language That You Needed To Get A Degree In So That You Could Teach It To Other People Who Were Basically Born Able To Speak English", the author does get in subsequent short order to the journalistic equivalent of a TKO: "... at once ..."
Whenever you see "... at once ..." you know there's a real point that's about to be made. Actually two points in one. It's kind of like when you play Tony Hawk's Pro Skater on your iPhone for 3 hours a day and you start combining your kick-flips with your hand plants because you know that you're going to get double the points. So of course, I figured this writer (if you can call someone who isn't actually published on paper by an actual publishing company with an office with windows and a mail room a writer... and an EDITOR!!!!) was really gonna knock my socks off with a brand new point when I saw the "... at once ..." coming from like, 3 sentences away. On the topic of something called "recessionista spending" ...
"Hiding familiar motives behind ambient lighting and organic scented candles, the genre at once masks and promotes the destructive expectations of traditional femininity and consumer culture, making them that much harder to fight."
Which of course wasn't really a new point at all but rather more like the entire point of the article.
"As one purveyor of high-end life-coaching services (who, for obvious reasons, wishes to remain anonymous) comments, “In our line of business, we have a saying: ‘Don’t fix the client.’” Once mentors teach clients to attain freedom and enlightenment, they can say goodbye to the high premiums they earn by telling clients they need more help."
In unrelated news, when asked to comment on the above referenced article and how the strong female role models of his youth helped shape the life and work of the greatest singer in rock-n-roll, Mick Jagger responded by quoting his own literary gem from the album "Beggars Banquet":
Stray Cat Blues
I hear the click-clack of your feet on the stairs
I know you're no scare-eyed honey.
There'll be a feast if you just come upstairs
But it's no hanging matter
It's no capital crime
I can see that you're fifteen years old
No I don't want your I.D.
And I can see that you're so far from home
But it's no hanging matter
It's no capital crime
Oh yeah, you're a strange stray cat
Oh yeah, don'tcha scratch like that
Oh yeah, you're a strange stray cat
bet your mama don't know you scream like that
I bet your mother don't know that you spit like that.
You look so weird and you're so far from home
but you really miss your mother
Don't look so scared I'm no mad-brained bear
But it's no hanging matter
It's no capital crime
Bet your mama don't know you scream like that
I bet your mother don't know that you bite like that.
You say you got a friend, she's wilder than you
Well, why don't you bring her upstairs
If she's so wild she can join in too
But it's no hanging matter
It's no capital crime
I bet your mother don't know that you bite like that
I'll bet she never saw you scratch my back
##
In related news, you should definitely mark your calendar now for the debut of The Old Fashioned Ladies Club on August 18, 2010 (at Rockwood Music Hall's fairly bland looking but good enough Stage 2) where I'll be reading War And Peace in it's entirety.
And speaking of misogyny, you should also mark your calendars for Tuesday July 6th at 8pm and come on down to Rockwood Music Hall's glorious new stage where I'll be playing bass for the totally self absorbed songwriter who doesn't even have a new song for the show, Misty Boyce, who will be opening for some forgettable guy who's name is easier to remember if you think of the writers of the four main books in the New Testament. Following that guy will of course be the Casey Shea band. But don't let the order of billing fool you. We/he will still technically be the opening act.
You'll be impressed to know that I've managed to show some fiscal restraint this morning and have thus eaten my breakfast at home. Actually, I still have a banana left, so I guess I haven't actually eaten my breakfast because I am in fact in the process of eating my breakfast. While eating my breakfast and typing this sentence, I am also listening to The Complete Stax-Volt Singles: 1959-1968. I bring that up just to point out how good I am at multi-tasking. It's kind of like how when on a night that may or may not have been last night some other band's manager says things like: "That was an amazing show. My jaw was on the floor..." I can think to myself: "Who is this guy again? He must lying. That show must've sucked sucked and he's just rubbing it in...." While at the same exact time respond with cordial and expected platitudes such as: "Thanks man, we had a lot of fun ... I'm really looking forward to standing outside smoking cigarettes while whatever the band you manage is called is on stage not getting famous."
Zzzzzzzzz...
Excuse me. I've been drooling again so I need to go into the other room for a second and get a tissue. It'll probably end up being more like 4 minutes because I decided not to smoke in my apartment anymore so I'll probably go out on my fire escape and do that.
Okay, I'm back. And in case you're one of those people that lays around in bed all day, here's a digital representation of what you're missing:
And in case you're one of those people that doesn't take pride in your appearance, here is a digital representation of fashionable socks (available at leading retailers such as H and M and possibly through an online retailer via the wormhole amazon.com which can be accessed via the convenient link on the bottom right margin of this page which incidentally will make me money if you click on it and buy something but don't tell anyone that I told you to do that since really I didn't because really I was just pointing out the obvious and since it's apparently against some kind of an agreement I have with amazon to directly encourage you to click on their advertisements when they are on my page and when said clicking would make both amazon and me money which seems to me to be the entire point of our relationship. Maybe that's why I'm still unmarried.):
So far today, I have spent about 34 minutes reading the musing of a NYC taxi driver. You might not be interesting in that at all. Perhaps you'd rather be informed on the topic of mustaches of the nineteenth century? In which case you should go visit: http://mustachesofthenineteenthcentury.blogspot.com/
In today's installment of "Wow, you must really be bored with your job" ...
Right now I'm gonna take my vitamin D vitamins and then I'll probably go take a crap after I eat this banana. After that I'll probably learn this new song that Vanessa Bley sent me for this gig we're gonna do over at this venue next week.
Oh, and I know you've been waiting to hear a bunch of witty insight and commentary on the gulf oil spill and how Tony Hayward is secretly kind of giddy that there's a big fat natural born hurricane about to roll in and take a bunch of responsibility off of his shoulders, I am afraid I'll be a disappointment as I've been experiencing writer's block on account of wondering about: "Damn, the protesters in Greece are way better looking than the ones here in America..."
Oh, and the song I'm listening to right now from the Stax collection ends with the refrain:
In case you were wondering where the collective uproar was regarding the greatest oil spill in the history of AAA, you'll be pleased to know that there was a spirited protest here in summery NYC today. Of course, if you really care about all this oil spill environment crap-olla, you should know that before you watch the video of the protesters covered in fake oil, you'll have to sit through a Nissan "Big Tent Event" ad. But then again, if you really care about all this oil spill environment crap-olla, you wouldn't even be using the internet and hence wouldn't be reading this sentence. So, without further adieu, enjoy tonight's video performance of: "Watch my pathcouli showering, nose-ring wearing, how embarrassed my mother must be ass pour chocolate sauce all over myself because I don't have to have a job because my embarrassed mom held down three of them I was a kid so I could go to college in New England and experiment with drugs, lesbianism (and/or yoga) and socialism and hence have now have time in my mid twenties to go to my local BP station and pour chocolate sauce all over my head while the rest of the greatest country in the history of people who don't really seem to care about the effects of oil spills head out to the greatest Nissan "Big Tent Event" in the history of Jimmy Buffet concerts, pour chocolate all over myself..."
Thanks for tuning in for today's recap of yesterday's Bushwick Invitational 2010. Unfortunately it is taking an absolute eternity for the highlight reel to upload to youtube. Come back tomorrow. Or don't. I'm kinda getting tired of you too if you really wanna know the truth about it.
In the meantime, no, I'm sorry, I won't watch Lost with you tonight and no I don't have an excuse and no I don't care about your dumb feelings.
In today's installment of "People Who Don't Make Me Feel Inferior Because I Dropped Out Of College ...
In related news, "The Old Fashioned Ladies Club" is coming to Rockwood Music Hall's Stage 2, Wednesday August 18th at midnight. And you'll find out more about that when I'm ready to tell you.
It started innocently enough with a quick pint to celebrate the engagement of one Dean McCarthy (of Margarita Club infamy) to some girl I've never met but will assume is probably not the sharpest knife in the drawer.
From there we headed out for out secret-ritual-pre-show dance party. It's a great band bonding experience and motivational tool that Casey learned while getting his MBA in Underwater Basket Weaving at FSU. And since it was Nick Webber's week to pick the spot, he upped the ante and took us all slummin' to his most fav spot in the always inviting and underdressed West Village, Don Hill's!!!! Just look at how excited he is to be there...
Maybe he'll try to relax a bit before this week's world tour of Williamsburg, Manhattan and Cambridge. Cambridge!?!?!?!?! Holy crap. We have officially arrived!!!! Before you know it, we'll be playing in Ithaca, home of the greatest marquee in all of rock:
In other news, I did not go to the Rubin Museum yesterday to see the Jung exhibit on his Red Book. But I meant to. Maybe if you've got some free time this week you'll finally call and take me out on a day date.
I'll be holding my breath.
In the meantime I'll keep reading Wise Blood'till I pass out.
In other other news, you can help me pay my rent by clicking on the ads at the bottom of the right margin. That's right kids, I have officially been monetized. And I have to say that once you get used to the itch (which is incidentally nothing a little cortizone cream won't fix up in just a few short days), it really starts to feel pretty good. And you too will feel good about getting in on the ground floor of what promises to be an empire of some or another scale. So, welcome to my financial future. Happy clicking.
Finally, today is Tommy Merrill's Birthday. If you didn't know, Tommy is the Senior Executive Vice President Of Talent Buying over at Rockwood Music Hall. So if you don't go on facebook right now and wish him a happy birthday you'll be relegating yourself to the 3pm slot on a Sunday afternoon for the rest of your pathetic little music career life. Pucker up bitches!
P.P.P.P.S. If you didn't already, you should click on the words All Night Chemist'sand get yourself redirected to a page where you can download the album for free.
