it’s dark

have a happy
be grateful
go back to bed
imagine the eyes
sleeping nearby

still dark

nerak_g is sitting next to me working on her setlist for tonight at Gotpoetry Live.

Don’t let her hard work go to waste! Come to Reflections Cafe tonight in Providence tonight for the show!!

Maybe Paul Simon will lend me his turkey suit.

The show was incredible.

I posted the setlist in my previous post, so I won’t include this here; go there if you want to see it.

In general: band was TIGHT, tighter than I’ve ever seen them. Even the relatively simple arrangements of songs from “Darkness” sparkled, and the complex work of the “Born To Run” and especially the “E Street Shuffle” songs were handled beautifully.

Sound at the Garden was perfect.

Spare stage set up, no obstructed views, big screens for closeups (of course).

Bruce, Nils and Steve traded lots of hot guitar leads and duels, more than I’ve ever seen. Nils did a lot of slide work, even jumping onto a pedal steel for one song. Bruce’s blues solo at the beginning of “Kitty’s Back” was extended and amazing by anyone’s standards; in later years he hasn’t showcased his lead ability as much as he can, but old Bruce fans know what he’s capable of — pre E-Street, he played in a hard metal band called Steel Mill and had a nickname of “Alvin Lee by the sea.” He showed off that blues-rock prowess last night in ways I’d never seen, with less of his sometimes dissonant and chaotic style that I think has led a lot of conventional rock guitar aficionados to overlook his skill.

The Big Man (Clarence Clemons on sax for the uninitiated) moves slower than he used to due to a pair of hip replacements, but sounded undiminished and in fine form.

The new material was perfect — “Magic” in particular was great, as was “Gypsy Biker,” and “Girls in their Summer Clothes” was the right opener for the extended encore.

A non-stop 2 and 1/2 hour show with minimal stage patter (no Bruce storytelling, which I really didn’t miss, as much as I like it when he does it usually).

Emotionally, it drilled me. Hard. The old stuff made me tear up with joy, and new stuff was terrific. Loved his treatment of “Reason to Believe” from “Nebraska” which included a John Lee Hooker/Canned Heat simmer from the band under his vocals and harmonica; he spoke/sang the last verse thru the distorted bullet mike for the harp which lent a Tom Waits flavor to it. And local boy Peter Wolf joined in for “Tenth Avenue Freezeout” clad head to toe in black leather, waving a bottle of red wine.

And now for “The Rising” — well, I had a hard time with that.

It’s a triggering song for me (interestingly, “Lonesome Day” didn’t get me as much — maybe because it was early in the set) because of its heavy association with 9/11, and even though it’s an uplifting song of healing, it brought up a lot of things, including an insulting and dismissive conversation some years ago with someone who couldn’t understand why that album meant so much to so many people. I sat down and I didn’t get to my feet until partway through the song because I thought I might not be able to stand, I was crying so hard. But I made it, which is after all the point.

After that, “The Last To Die” worked well to take me into anger from the sadness (“who’ll be the last to die from our mistake” indeed), and “Badlands” brought it all home and lifted me up again.

Catharsis — it’s what’s for breakfast, lunch and dinner sometimes.

Anything I wish I’d heard? Sure — nothing from “Devils and Dust;” no “Rosalita” and nothing from “The River.” But no complaints.

I needed this badly. Thanks again to drgeorge for taking me, and to you for bearing with me.

More later, but here’s the setlist for anyone who cares:

Radio Nowhere
Night
Lonesome Day
Gypsy Biker
Magic
Reason to Believe
Darkness on the Edge of Town
Candy’s Room
She’s the One
Livin’ in the Future
This Hard Land
4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)
The E Street Shuffle
Working on the Highway
Devil’s Arcade
The Rising
Last to Die
Long Walk Home
Badlands

encore:

Girls in Their Summer Clothes
Tenth Avenue Freezeout
Kitty’s Back
Born to Run
American Land

A transcendent show…easily the best Bruce show ever, and that’s saying a lot and puts it automatically in the running for the best concert ever (I still think my first Who concert with Keith Moon probably beats it, but that’s the only close contender). I cried through much of it, most notably through “The Rising” — triggering, cathartic.

Hearing three songs from “E Street Shuffle” was amazing, as was the “Night/Darkness/Candy’s Room/She’s
the One” sequence. “Kitty’s Back” was the clincher here — I’d never seen it live.

I have more to say, but will process later and get back to you.

Thanks, Skip…for everything.

I’ll be on my way to see my first Springsteen show in twenty years…

BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOCE!

Just getting warmed up.

BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOCE!

NOTE: This is finally getting some attention, so I’m bumping it up. Thanks to Andrew, Lea, Dave K, Skip, and Victor so far. I really need some more advice on it. Thanks.

I gotta say, this is turning into the weirdest piece I’ve ever worked on. It had turned into a full-on text experimentation piece before I backed up and got this. Nowhere near done, and doubt it’ll end up looking like this; just needed some reality checks before going on.

” In a 1971 magazine piece about women’s liberation, Mailer compared the dehumanization of technology to the effect of feminists, who he said were abolishing the “mystery, romance” and “blind, goat-kicking lust from sex.”
— from an Associated Press obituary of Norman Mailer, November 10, 2007

on the night
before Norman Mailer died
in a New York City hospital

a 17 year old boy
was dragged by a friend
to a poetry reading
in a bookstore 300 miles away

finding himself
for the first time in his life
in a room
where he was harmlessly outnumbered
and rendered apparently irrelevant
by
hundreds of women
of all kinds
openly being
all kinds of woman

all he could think of to do
was text a friend
a couple of times

first

they’re singing lesbo
songs

then
after more time
and more poems
had passed
norming
what is maler
he
typed

wtf
i feel mad weird
some of these girlz
r manlier
than me

did he really mean to say

i feel
mad    
romance
mad            
blind
goat-kicking lust

or

some of these girlz r    
abolishing the mystery

or

some of these girlz r mad

Norman Mailer died
a few hours later
unaware of all this
still pugnacious right down to his failed kidneys
he who once stabbed his wife
loathed feminism
boxed everything
typed incessantly

thumbs flying

a boy got up
and left a world
of women
behind
apparently
without hearing a thing

we are all of us
prone to mutter
when someone
is picking at our scars

I gotta clean this house.

I gotta go do an errand.

I gotta go clean puke outta my car. (Don’t ask.)

I gotta stop thinking about that text poem I posted a day or two ago and the fact that no one’s commented on it. I could use some help. Is it that bad??

I gotta lot to do, and most of all I gotta stop thinking about how psyched I am that I’m seeing Bruce Springsteen tomorrow night or nothing is gonna get done.

See you at the Asylum for Seren Divine tonight…

I picked this up off of Indymedia just now:

http://colorado.indymedia.org/node/291

If any of my friends (especially down in Texas) can shed any more light on this, I’d be appreciative. It’s a sore subject for me, as anyone who’s heard at least one of the poems on “Americanized” might guess; I have a longstanding interest in border access issues regarding Native folks. Thanks.

Don’t know if you saw this, but there’s a new Southwestern style restaurant opening on Shrewsbury Street tonight called “Mezcal.” (Original, I know.)

They’re advertising a “Tequila Parlor” with over 100 brands of tequila. (Thought that would get your attention.)

They are also having a “guacamole exhibition.” No word on if the guacamole will be sold framed or unframed.

Off to Orlando for a few days for work. See you maybe tomorrow night; hope to have at least a draft of a new poem up then.

Great show. One of our best, in fact.

First, the setlist:

Notes From a Reptile Son/Peppermint Schnapps
Do You Know What It Means
Americanized
Classic Rock
I Need A Guitar
American History
Meditations On A Black Excursion
Getting Ahead
Mayans and Aztecs
Where Do You Live?

Packed house, although almost no one from the usual suspects at our sets were there; present and of note were a_solitaryman, frequegrl(of course!),
Capri (Faro’s girlfriend, who ended up judging her first slam), nerak_g (who extended her stay by one day to catch us — thanks, Karen), several of the Cantab crowd, and Regie Gibson, who honored us by foregoing his appointment with “Desperate Housewives” and shooting in to see us when he found out we were featuring. (That was a nice ego boost for both of us.)

Jerome DeuPree joined us on drums for the entire set and it rocked — hard. We’d originally figured on having him join us for just a couple of pieces, but he’d heard us back in April and wanted to do the whole set with us — no argument here; Jerome’s a terrific drummer and it added a lot to have him there. He and Faro settled in immediately and things worked beautifully; or particular note were “Americanized” to which he added a driving, martial beat and “Classic Rock” — this last one was a lot of fun, as he and Faro seamlessly worked through all the covers that make up this little homage to classic rock cover bands in smalltown bars. For those who haven’t heard the piece, Faro lays down a medley of famous classic rock basslines behind the poem. In order, it runs from an instrumental opening of “Black Magic Woman” to “Sunshine Of Your Love” to “25 Or 6 To 4” to “Satisfaction” to “Gimme Some Lovin” and closes with “Brown Eyed Girl.” All in slightly under three minutes! Jerome nailed it with a big grin on his face the whole time.

In general, the packed house seemed to like it a lot, although I was surprised that we had fairly low merchandise sales afterward; still, not a bad evening.

The slam (which preceded us) was pretty good, although there were only three poets in it. And the open which followed our set was superb, notable for the Trio’s backing (spot on as always with Jeff Robinson on woodwinds and Blake Newman on upright bass) and some great poetry, including highlights like Karen’s punk gender poem (I don’t know the title of this one) and a really neat piece from a woman named Jade; hard to describe, so I won’t try, but it was excellent. Jeff let loose at the end with some passionate and slightly alcohol fueled but no less potent testifying while the Trio took it outside and led it back in at the close.

Overall, this was an excellent night. The Lounge is a great place to perform — that jazz basement vibe lends a lot to any performance, I think — and it was cool to be there. This was my first feature ever at the Lizard, and I’m thinking of making it a more regular stop on my poetry excursions, even if it does make for a late Sunday night.

The set — indeed the whole night — was also recorded for posterity. Evidently, there’s something in the works to make performances at the Lizard available on iTunes by the first of the year; I’ll keep you posted on things as they develop.

Thanks to everyone who showed up. Next stop: Hotel Vernon in Worcester on Thursday, November 29th (Bobby Gibbs’ new reading), followed by our last show of the year at Storytellers in Worcester on December 14, where we’ll be doing the entire “Americanized” album start to finish for only the second time. There are also recording gigs coming up; new material in the pipeline already. And if anyone wants to book us in the New Year, let me know — right now, we’ve only got one date so far in February at Club Passim in Cambridge.

Viva la Duende!

So you hear it from me first…

I’ll be in Orlando next week on a job, Tuesday and Wednesday nights. Gotta fly home on Thursday night, so no slam for me…and my days look long and busy, so not sure I’ll be up for anything Wednesday night (Tuesday is spoken for by work obligations).

If I can get out Wednesday night for something mild, I’ll let you know. Sorry, gang, if it doesn’t work out.

Good for you, good for others.

http://www.freerice.com/index.php

http://www.cnn.com/2007/SHOWBIZ/books/11/10/mailer.obit/index.html

Was the book release reading for “Word Warriors” — the new anthology of women performance poets. Picked it up — haven’t had a chance to read it yet, of course, but the list of artists is fabulous.

Reading tonight were Alix Olson, who edited the anthology; Karen Garrabrant ( aka nerak_g ); Genevieve Van Cleve ( aka genvc ); and Lenelle Moise. All did a terrific job to a packed house in the relatively small Food For Thought bookstore, which was standing room only. In addition there was a short set by Nice Shoes, the Mount Holyoke feminist a cappella group (their description, and they were great).

I was standing in back and happened to be overlooking a pair of young guys (16 -18, I’d say) who were clearly not happy to be there — one was there for class, the other was “dragged along.” The Drag-Along was texting madly through the night, giving his opinions to a friend who wasn’t there.

I admit it — I looked over his shoulder to see what he was texting. Copied two comments to my notebook because…well, just because, I guess:

my friend dragged me here theyre singing lesbo songs

Ah, but the second comment. There’s a poem here with all its existential and identity unease on display:

wtf i feel mad weird some of these girlz r manlier than me

I admit, at first I was laughing inside at both comments…but on the way home that second one really started to get to me…something so frightening and frightened there, so much inherent violence and hate…

I’ve already dared Karen to write a poem from that line. I extend the challenge to you as well; I’ll post mine soon. (On second thought this morning, maybe not soon; reading Norman Mailer’s obituary has triggered the usual wave of complex associations that herald a Monster coming on. Provincetown, machismo, feminism…tailor made to make me go way too fucking deep in my head for stuff for this poem. Sigh.)

But I’m home now…tired, sleepy, and ready for bed. A good night.