Saturday, May 12, 2007

Philly: Avant Post-Can-Toss Mosh-Core / Fitting Digs...

(Amended May 16, 2007; new photos added May 20.)



(Photo by April, shot from the blood-spattered floor of the Avant Gents Lounge, Philly... L to R: Ben, Grier, TS, Graham, and Rat. Gaybomb was crouched next to the Califone to Mr. Falestra's left, and as such was cropped out of the composition.)

---

A great cartoon in a recent issue of the New Yorker depicts an air crew sitting in the cockpit of a commercial jet. The pilot says to his navigator (and I paraphrase): "Even if we're flying four or four hundred, I still make the same inane announcements."

Thus, a time to reiterate old saws: you can't buy this fucking TLASILA life, despite the fact that we've barely make a cent in the 16 years we've lived it, and it matters not if you're playing for three sheepish devotees or the rabid, hard-moshing Spartan death squad we performed before at the Avant Gentleman's Lounge in Philadelphia, one still has to rip spinal columns from torsos...

Despite (at least) three of the assembled mob being tin-tossing fuckwads, we were treated to an amazing scene, a genuinely sick-ass aud, and delightfully warped ululations of time, gesture, and intent. Andrew Barranca joined the tour at last, and his Califone card reader roared through the night... And, last but properly first, the return of the majordomo! Chris Grier fucking ruled, as ever.

Can't thank the Philly audience enough, so I shan't bother. But those who know, bloody well know...

CG had the keys to a friend's swank four-story townhouse, so we all slept like motherfucking babies. In the morning, fetid cheese steaks for Rattus and company, and the usual grasses and bits of bark for me. Graham opted out altogether...

---

The following pix have something or other to do with our assault on the city, but hindsight blurs, and contexts will soon be lost...





(Now I remember... Eliot and Ashiq at Benna's Cafe, the morning after. Ash was our sound engineer at the AGL... Excellent work, good sir.)

---

(Ben and Graham likely possess additional snaps from the evening; April, if you're perusing this, do you have any others you'd care to share? Otherwise, dear readers, wait for the eventual vidcap upload...)

TS

9 Mile Kennel Club / Alleghenies / The King

(Photos uploaded May 20, 2007.)

Après MoCAD we were shanghaied by Graham's pals Mike, Brenda, and Michelle, and deposited amid the quaint suburban diorama of Detroit's storied 9 Mile. Our new friends were (genuinely) superb hosts, but the three large dogs and two cats sniffing about threw certain members' allergies into hyper-drive.

Andrew W.K. would have been in heaven. (Ben slept in the SUV...)







---

Kudos to Mike's outstanding DJ skills (Miles' On the Corner followed by Kool Keith - sweet!), real-life chef Brenda's delicious 2 AM veggie burgers (even Rat ate them!), and Michelle's impossibly cute drunk-ass smile. We found them to be exemplary humans. Still uncertain about their menagerie, however...

In the morning, we dropped Andy Ortmann off at Detroit Metro, and veered toward the Atlantic coast...

We've been so spoiled by splendor that we ignored the (frequently) majestic panoramas of the Allegheny Mountains. Such louts we've turned out to be...







---

Stopped off in Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania to visit erstwhile Miami Beach synth scenester King Felix. He and his refreshingly sanguine bride welcomed us with plates of freshly thawed onion rings and a killer cucumber salad. We were very happy to see His Rail-Thin Majesty, as it had been a ring modulator's werkkksproiiing since he tracked dark blasts for 30-minuten männercreme... No informal photos of our meeting with the royal court were allowed; security procedures were stringent, and the safety and well-being of the King is paramount in Mechanicsburg. You'll just have wait for the next stalkarazzi series in the Sun.

TS