ctrl + f5
sometime's i wonder why i've been so blessed. it's really easy to dwell on one's perceived flaws or areas of their lives where they don't always feel fulfilled but i really try to place emphasis on positivity. go ahead and put a big fuckin boot on the foot that kicks ass and let it stomp some shit. big ups to terpsichore, the muse of music and dancing, and polyhymnia, the muse of harmony.
last nite me, shifty, and tre hit up the NORML benefit at the hollywood palace in my hood and rocked out with tenacious motherfuckin d, who brought a little "fuck her gently" along with a butt baby ballad. for those who didn't know, kyle gave anal birth to a bloody butt baby. dubcat brought that sticky reggae shit from long beach and closed their set with a dope cover of sublime's "doin time." i made sure to bring plenty of my own sticky green shit. look into my eyes and tell me that visine doesn't work. i'm not really into that whole linkin bizkit styled rap-rock dilly but there seemed to be a good number of people who felt the sound of fieldy's dream, a side-gig for KORN's bassist. whitestar was a bunch of surf rockers that featured a dancing bear of sorts and what seemed to be an abundance of skinny white boy ass crack.
every now and then you'll have a phat kronic nug and notice that there's one special, precious seed. i'm not talking about dirt weed where it's nothing but sticks and stones but that juicy sticky icky that's got that seed that you know will one day be put to good use and give you that beautiful purple sticky punch. the seed in my sack yesterday night was the local LA band, particle. i'd never heard of them before but i can guaran-damn-tee that i'm going to make a point of catching their next gig in the area. i'm still trying to find the right way to describe them... the closest thing i can come up with is some of that driving energy of medeski martin and wood. the bassist has got that shimmy-shake reminiscent of noel redding (god rest his recently departed soul) and the guitar player made heavy use of a couple of distortion pedals that had a progressive electronic feel. samples are available at http://www.particlepeople.com
i gotta admit that the folks at the benefit kind of let me down. there wasn't near as much dank being consumed as i thought there'd be. even the weez (paulie shore) was kind of miffed that there wasn't enough ganj being smoked. of course, me and tre and shifty did our best to keep the air filled with sweet smelling smoke. there was this one stress burning buster that got really fuckin annoying. he kept reaching around and grabbing the posteriors of some of the females standing in front of me. i thought about giving him a pass and just attributing it to smoking too much bad weed but when he wouldn't stop i had to let the sucka know that he ought to keep his hands to his cheesy metal pipe. the sucka's boy looked ready to punk me until i threw them a joint of the good stuff--my motherfuckin stuff-- and told them to take it elsewhere.
charleston, south carolina is home to the annual picolo spoleto festival, a celebration of the arts. on friday of last week, the family and i went to see miss primadonna in her production of lakme', a french language opera by leo delibes, edmond gondinet, and philippe gille based on the novel by pierre lotti. based in colonial india, lakme is the daughter of a priest and is revered as a diety by her father and their followers. she falls in love with a british officer, lots of singing follows, and someone dies. fairly typical opera fare, if you ask me. some of you have probably heard part of the opera without even knowing it, british airways used the "flower duet" from lakme in their advertising campaign. the opera isn't very close to the top of my list of favorite types of live music to enjoy but it was nice seeing miss primadonna perform. there was a reception following the performance that the family headed to with miss primadonna in tow that took place in one of the historic districts of charleston. according to the slightly tipsy former debutante i talked with at the reception, i was rubbing elbows with the old southern city's upper crust.
another part of the spoleto festival's music presentation is the homegrown blues series. accompanied by my sister and miss primadonna, i went to the harmonica romp in the swamp at bowen's island. harmonicas were provided by masters of the harp chuck "the cat" morris, juke joint johnny, smoky weiner, and mike "naz" nazarenko. a dirt road led the way from the interstate through tall grass to the entrance of bowen's island restaurant, which was flanked by piles of previously shucked and eaten oyster shells that were about as high as i am tall. the venue itself was literally over the swamp, held up on stilts over the water with a corrugated metal roof and constructed of two-by-fours and the kind of pain you need to make the blues. screen windows filtered the setting sun and a kind breeze kept the smell of sweat and stale beer from lingering. i'm making a point of going back there for some more gutbucket blues and huge plates of peel-n-eat shrimp when the opportunity presents itself.
this whole musical expedition was kicked off after i scored my copy of lizz wright's debut cd, salt. salt is in the same vein of norah jones but with a heavier soul and gospel background. the nine months that i've been waiting for this release have paid off, i can't say enough about how brilliant lizz is. there's a version of the dearly departed mongo santamaria's 'afro blue' that will break your soul down and before building it back up.
today's graphic is wassily kandinsky's improvisation #23. take a moment to enjoy it.
sometime's i wonder why i've been so blessed. it's really easy to dwell on one's perceived flaws or areas of their lives where they don't always feel fulfilled but i really try to place emphasis on positivity. go ahead and put a big fuckin boot on the foot that kicks ass and let it stomp some shit. big ups to terpsichore, the muse of music and dancing, and polyhymnia, the muse of harmony.
last nite me, shifty, and tre hit up the NORML benefit at the hollywood palace in my hood and rocked out with tenacious motherfuckin d, who brought a little "fuck her gently" along with a butt baby ballad. for those who didn't know, kyle gave anal birth to a bloody butt baby. dubcat brought that sticky reggae shit from long beach and closed their set with a dope cover of sublime's "doin time." i made sure to bring plenty of my own sticky green shit. look into my eyes and tell me that visine doesn't work. i'm not really into that whole linkin bizkit styled rap-rock dilly but there seemed to be a good number of people who felt the sound of fieldy's dream, a side-gig for KORN's bassist. whitestar was a bunch of surf rockers that featured a dancing bear of sorts and what seemed to be an abundance of skinny white boy ass crack.
every now and then you'll have a phat kronic nug and notice that there's one special, precious seed. i'm not talking about dirt weed where it's nothing but sticks and stones but that juicy sticky icky that's got that seed that you know will one day be put to good use and give you that beautiful purple sticky punch. the seed in my sack yesterday night was the local LA band, particle. i'd never heard of them before but i can guaran-damn-tee that i'm going to make a point of catching their next gig in the area. i'm still trying to find the right way to describe them... the closest thing i can come up with is some of that driving energy of medeski martin and wood. the bassist has got that shimmy-shake reminiscent of noel redding (god rest his recently departed soul) and the guitar player made heavy use of a couple of distortion pedals that had a progressive electronic feel. samples are available at http://www.particlepeople.com
i gotta admit that the folks at the benefit kind of let me down. there wasn't near as much dank being consumed as i thought there'd be. even the weez (paulie shore) was kind of miffed that there wasn't enough ganj being smoked. of course, me and tre and shifty did our best to keep the air filled with sweet smelling smoke. there was this one stress burning buster that got really fuckin annoying. he kept reaching around and grabbing the posteriors of some of the females standing in front of me. i thought about giving him a pass and just attributing it to smoking too much bad weed but when he wouldn't stop i had to let the sucka know that he ought to keep his hands to his cheesy metal pipe. the sucka's boy looked ready to punk me until i threw them a joint of the good stuff--my motherfuckin stuff-- and told them to take it elsewhere.
charleston, south carolina is home to the annual picolo spoleto festival, a celebration of the arts. on friday of last week, the family and i went to see miss primadonna in her production of lakme', a french language opera by leo delibes, edmond gondinet, and philippe gille based on the novel by pierre lotti. based in colonial india, lakme is the daughter of a priest and is revered as a diety by her father and their followers. she falls in love with a british officer, lots of singing follows, and someone dies. fairly typical opera fare, if you ask me. some of you have probably heard part of the opera without even knowing it, british airways used the "flower duet" from lakme in their advertising campaign. the opera isn't very close to the top of my list of favorite types of live music to enjoy but it was nice seeing miss primadonna perform. there was a reception following the performance that the family headed to with miss primadonna in tow that took place in one of the historic districts of charleston. according to the slightly tipsy former debutante i talked with at the reception, i was rubbing elbows with the old southern city's upper crust.
another part of the spoleto festival's music presentation is the homegrown blues series. accompanied by my sister and miss primadonna, i went to the harmonica romp in the swamp at bowen's island. harmonicas were provided by masters of the harp chuck "the cat" morris, juke joint johnny, smoky weiner, and mike "naz" nazarenko. a dirt road led the way from the interstate through tall grass to the entrance of bowen's island restaurant, which was flanked by piles of previously shucked and eaten oyster shells that were about as high as i am tall. the venue itself was literally over the swamp, held up on stilts over the water with a corrugated metal roof and constructed of two-by-fours and the kind of pain you need to make the blues. screen windows filtered the setting sun and a kind breeze kept the smell of sweat and stale beer from lingering. i'm making a point of going back there for some more gutbucket blues and huge plates of peel-n-eat shrimp when the opportunity presents itself.
this whole musical expedition was kicked off after i scored my copy of lizz wright's debut cd, salt. salt is in the same vein of norah jones but with a heavier soul and gospel background. the nine months that i've been waiting for this release have paid off, i can't say enough about how brilliant lizz is. there's a version of the dearly departed mongo santamaria's 'afro blue' that will break your soul down and before building it back up.
today's graphic is wassily kandinsky's improvisation #23. take a moment to enjoy it.
VIEW 12 of 12 COMMENTS
:>