Well, it’s over.
I have tried six times now to write a review of last night’s show, and I haven’t been able to. It went fine, but I’m kind of in a funk right now and can’t focus.
Thanks to all who came out — and I do mean that; folks who were there for Duende filled the house. Special thanks to Lea, Victor, Alex, Heather, Bobby, Dave, Eric, Skip, Anna…it was great to see you.
I’m gone now. Let someone else talk about it.
Sometimes a work of art
is just a work of art — lovely
of course, even perhaps fraught
with transcendence — but there are times
when even I hold my breath at what I’ve wrought.
The blue jay is a good example, at least to me;
I blended a loud scrape with a royal robe
and got something more, an elegance
with a voice of arrogant pain. Or the jellyfish
I placed in the southern ocean, the one
that learned on its own how to make clouds
by banding with its billion fellows — never saw that coming,
thought I had the cloud thing knocked without any help
and here comes this simple thing
(not a throwaway exactly but not a strong effort —
more of a sketch really)
and it teaches me how numbers in concert
can do so much more than one simple existence
can muster. Things like that –it makes this
worthwhile, this constant churn in me
to make and make.
When the baby came out shining,
not yet formed but ready to open his eyes
and hold the sky inside him even before he could speak,
I was not surprised — yet. It took years for him
to find the Other that taught him how to make me
visible. I never intended that, of course, but
when it happened — oh, that first moment
when he set down words that turned my pockets
inside out so that everyone could see what I carried
close to me, so that everyone could see the tools and trinkets
with which I adorned this world! He said a little more
and the reeds I thought were already so complete, so simple,
came alive and drew my toil up through their hollow stems
so anyone could suck the marrow of my intent
with a simple recitation — this was it:
the God I always knew lived inside me had stepped out of me.
He was there before me, gentle hands
first making a palace of the stones underfoot,
then framing heaven anew.
I knew at last I’d never been alone,
and all the birds in the sky
and all the creepers on the land, all the trees and wind,
all the flowing monsters
of the sea, all the things I thought I’d made and let go,
were with me, in me, were me.
He was the masterpiece I’d always known was possible.
He spoke. I was. He still speaks. I still am.
I really, really am embarrassed by self-promotion. I’m not good at it, and I always feel that I’m taking up too much time I should be using to write. I’m also afraid that I’m bothering people.
I know it comes with the territory, though; I also know that since it’s not just me on stage these days, it’s two of us, so it’s not just self-promotion, and I also feel strongly that the work is good and I’m proud of it.
So…everything below here is promo for the Saturday show, and a couple of plugs for things you might want to look at for you own work. If you hate this stuff, this would be a good time to look away….
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So then.
Saturday night…it all comes together.
CDs are burned. I’m off to print the books shortly. We rehearse this afternoon, probably tomorrow or Saturday too.
And then…this.
Saturday Night, October 6th, at the Perishable Theater on Empire Street in Providence, RI at 6:00, it’s the second night of the Spoken Word Festival (really, you should see all the work, but we’re only there on Saturday).
Duende presents the premiere of “Americanized” and releases the new CD and chapbook set.
We’re starting off the evening, sometime between 6 and 7 (come for 6, there will be short openers).
Admission: 5 measly bucks.
Come. We want to fill the house. And Christopher Johnson, Marlon Carey, and Red Planet are also on the bill, so it’s gonna be a great night.
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Duende’s getting some Internet airplay on two sites that are also worth your attention and consideration if you want to get your own stuff out there. They are both actively looking for material, so send stuff in.
“Sing Before Seven” is a featured poem right now on:
http://www.virtualpoetryreading.com
and we’ve got other stuff in rotation on:
That last station is run by old slam friends Linda DiFeterici and Keith Roach, by the way, and it has a killer playlist that runs the gamut from Steven Vincent Benet to Marc Bamuthi Joseph. Great tunes, too.
There’s also an interview with yours truly in the Eadon’s Place schedule right now, so check it out.
OK…off to the printer…See you.
(Oh, did I mention I’m going to see Bruce on November 19th at the Garden, thanks to drgeorge ? I am, and i’m incredibly grateful.)
— told the crowd that we’re thinking of ending Gotpoetry Live. needless to say, we got a lot of sudden offers of help to keep it running. ( “don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone” )
for now, we’re going forward with it, cautiously. we will be cutting back on features to focus on building some funds and working on the quality of the open mike, so it’ll be just one a month starting in November. drop me a line if you’re coming through and we’ll see if it fits.
— i’m exhausted. built the final layout of the book and Faro designed the CD label this afternoon. i have freelance work to do but i’m going to bed early and getting up to work on it all.
— stopped on the way home to pick up some hair gel and splurged slightly on myself: picked up the new Springsteen album on the day of release. i’ve done this for every Bruce album since “The River” in 1980, so it’s an unbroken streak for 27 years running. i hadn’t planned to do it this time what with money so tight, but i’m glad i did — i’m playing it now. terrific. the Professor’s playing piano again, not keyboards, and Clarence is back in force; also the glockenspiel is in effect. writing is superb, reflecting the growth he’s evidenced over the last couple of releases and the impact of the Seeger Sessions.
(and for you Bruce haters out there: don’t. Bruce has kept me alive, literally, at various points of my life. i needed this, and i’m not going to entertain arguments about it, him, his work, or anything else right now. life has been hard, and this is important to me as it has been since the first time i saw him play. he’s been a constant through punk, through all my phases and through my general disenchantment with corporate rock — proof that the absolute prejudices i hold against things are as foolish as any absolute enchantment i hold, because it’s not that i don’t see some bad shit in his repertoire — i do — or love everything he does unconditionally — i don’t — but i always have faith that the good stuff’s still there. i feel rewarded and blessed tonight.)
— while we’re on the subject, the song i’m listening to right now, “the devil’s arcade,” is an amazing anti war song. AMAZING.
— i heard a radio interview this afternoon that explained to me beautifully why i hate the idea behind pandora and pretty much dislike iPods: it spoke of the difference between “convenient music” and “inconvenient music” and the idea that you no longer need be surprised by anything on the radio. i like surprises, even the ones that are occasionally unpleasant, when it comes to music. i tried pandora and gave it up almost immediately because i could be damn near guaranteed i’d like anything it offered me. it was boring, even if i’d never heard the individual songs before, because there were so few surprises in the offerings.
gimme that radio dial, let me twist it up and piss myself off. i need that sometimes.
(i think sometimes of the slam world as a place without surprises, too. maybe that’s my problem.)
night all.
i’ve been told
i am simply supposed to be
god’s repeater
what i say
isn’t mine
it falls off my mouth
rattles on the tiles
is carried off to the crowds
but what is left for me?
what do i say when all the words
that come out of me
pass through without finding any place
to stick?
a prophet is without volition
when someone says vile things
am i supposed to do something righteous?
when someone whispers left side words
am i supposed to lift my right arm?
and when i am silent at the end
will there be anything left to bury?
what eulogy will i give for myself?
or will another prophet
speak another’s words over me
and thus no one will know me
as i do not?
it’s said we see the future
but all I see is the shit it grows from
and i’m the asshole who put it out there
that thirty years later, long after punk rock blew apart my notions of rock and roll and how it should be, Faro and I have recorded a concept album.
from Boston, where I saw the Electric Whale Revival for the second time in three days.
I’ll have to think hard about reviewing this one, but overall, it was pretty damn good. I actually think the Worcester show was slightly better overall, but there were high points here too (Buddy in particular was really on tonight). And of course, this show also featured Blair and Shira Erlichmann as opening acts, which added to the overall experience…
Off for the night…got a wedding reception tomorrow! And of course, sateenduraluxe at the Hut tomorrow night…
Moving from
the nose back
to the tail
I let myself
fall into
the slipstream
and now
it seems obvious
that I was never under
my own power
anyway.
This festival of spoken word, organized by Christopher Johnson, is promising to be a killer set of shows.
On Saturday night, October 6, at 6:00, the main opening act of the evening will be Duende as we premiere and release the CD and chapbook of our new show, “Americanized.”
The show and book/CD set is an exploration of various facets of how we become “Americanized” — how the influences of parents and sociey’s messages contribute to creating the mix of contradictions and paradoxes that make us who we are, and which make the country we live in both wonderful and dark as all hell.
No easy answers, and no easy moralizing here…
Come out and see us, and see the many poets who will be contributing their own unique visions over the course of the three nights.
Admission’s a measly 5 bucks, and it’s going to be good. Come down to the Perishable Theater, on Empire Street in Providence (next to AS220), and check it out — I personally would love to see you, and it would be great to fill the house. Although we have gigs coming up, We don’t have any other performances of the full show planned at the moment, so this may be your first and last chance for a while…
Thanks in advance.
Damn fine show. Even though I was sick and headachy as all hell, too…The gang were all in fine form tonight, from Anis and Dan right through the song stylings of Derrick and of course, Mike and Buddy.
After, we all headed off to Ralph’s where we made merry, and Derrick and Mike enjoyed the splendor of Ralph’s burgers while Missy bravely polished off a cup of the Chili of Doom.
I’m even gonna see the show again in Boston Saturday night, when I hope to be in better health and spirits…that show at the Paradise includes Blair, Shira Erlichmann, and Danny Sherrard replacing Anis for the evening. Gonna be fun.
Wheee…now I’m headed for bed where I trust I’ll be able to sleep past the headache and all.
All five of the cuts on the profile are now from “Americanized,” so give them a listen if you will.
New cuts today are
Sing Before Seven
No
Enjoy!
ALSO: Faro’s got a couple of his solo pieces up as well as cuts from the CD.
Our Myspace addresses:
http://www.myspace.com/poetrybytonybrown
and
Dark Matter 