Played the Bowery Ballroom last night; it was kinda awesome. I played with this guy named Thomas Bartlett--nicknamed the Doveman--on piano. Such a beautiful, immaculate player--and he's this 21-year old guy, very, like, cheekboned and pale, and he plays hunched over the piano in this spindly, compelling way.
He played a Wurlitzer, which is this old electric piano that sounds really gritty and bell-like, Fantastic.
Drunk guy in front was shitty--ooh, shitty shitty drunk guy, yelping in the quiet parts, why do you dog me? I felt bad for the front-rowers. There was this awesome kid in a KMFDM shirt right in front, he was one of those guys-in-front that you just dig--and man, I felt for him, having to endure shitty shitty drunk guy. He deserved a medal for patience.
Other than that, it ruled.
He played a Wurlitzer, which is this old electric piano that sounds really gritty and bell-like, Fantastic.
Drunk guy in front was shitty--ooh, shitty shitty drunk guy, yelping in the quiet parts, why do you dog me? I felt bad for the front-rowers. There was this awesome kid in a KMFDM shirt right in front, he was one of those guys-in-front that you just dig--and man, I felt for him, having to endure shitty shitty drunk guy. He deserved a medal for patience.
Other than that, it ruled.
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New tattoo work today, and I'm a bit sore to say the least. Hope you are keeping warm in this winter wonderland.