CAVEATS-A-GO-GO
- a) The likelihood that I’m forgetting something that had a profound life-altering effect on me is, well, kind of high.
- b) I recognize that it could be perceived as or is just in fact supersketchy some of the included shows I played at or was involved in organizing. Please note, that this was at least noted, and may I say in my feeble defense it’s much harder for me to prod the old carcass out of the house these days and it helps if I’m involved in some capacity. Still don’t like it? Ah, go take a fun jump in warm gentle lapping lake filled with goldfishes making you delicious sandwiches.
In no partic order whatsoever.
SUPERSONIC GRCB BENEFIT
- : Angela Sawyer, Andrea Pensado, Jessica Piper, Junko Fujiwara, Donna Parker, Magdalena Abrego. Humor, ferocity, bleeps, jazzbo Riot Grrrl covers, sonic blasts, it was a feast. Only sorry I don’t have footage of everyone and what I do is such scraplets. All of their stuff is out there on the webs.
ANGELA SAWYER
JESSICA PIPER
DONNA PARKER
ANDREA PENSADO
DESUS AND MERO podcast/TV show—these two are some of the best parsers of the world I know of, at least—and funny+++(+). So fast on their verbal feet—mon dieu—their joking can sometimes seem more like a great act of motor coordination, like Brian Chippendale on the drums or Mia Hamm with the soccer ball only with words. Their podcast has evolved into a TV show. I like both equally. If you don’t know much (anything) about the Knicks or that much about the Bronx, neither do I—well, so what. You get to learn.
I had ze pleasure of seeing F/I/P (Bill Nace/Jake Messina Meginsky) play somewhere without a ceiling (on top of a Providence parking garage at DOT AIR) and with a ceiling (Le Laboratoire, part of a Non-Event joint). Eggscellent.
DOT AIR
Non-Event Cambridge show
F/I/P (Bill Nace & Jake Meginsky) at Le Laboratoire Cambridge. Sept 6, 2016 from Non-Event on Vimeo.
MOONLIGHT (movie). For all humans, everywhere.
ROB NOYES I believe I saw Rob Noyes play more than anyone else this year. Magical stuff.
Non-Event shows at Boston City Hall. There were two. These were such a marvel of sounds doing laps and acrobatics in the emptiness of this nutball civic space—definition of unique experience. Almost felt like being in someone’s (Stanley Kubrick’s?) dream. Were there alotta music concrete jokes being kicked around? Sorry I missed ‘em, although they mighta been over my head anyway.
Eli Kesler
Bhob Rainey/Ernst Karel/Caroline Park
The idea that there are people all around endeavoring to haul themselves up their own Mt. Everests, unknown except to all that are closest to them, and sometimes not even that, I, at least, find kind of heartening. This year I watched Beth Castrodale do one of the harder things there is—persevere—in the wilds of that most unforgiving, unaccountable realm—the publishing world. Bales of letters to well-researched agents, submissions to contests, revisions upon revisions, sample chapters–hopes raised, crushed, raised again—oof—all recognizable to any writer I know. She’s just the sort of person one is rooting for being a gifted writer, committed to the work, huge reader, supportive of writers in the community (http://smallpresspicks.com/) and for whatever it’s worth, quite a nice person. There’s a happy ending which is sort of the point—her novel, Marion Hatley, is coming out on http://garlandpress.com/ this spring—(!!!!!!)—but, at the end of this year, I think is as worthy to rejoice in the act in and of itself. Go Beth. Go all of you soldiering through life’s endless and occasionally dire slogs as you try to find some degree of health, safety, freedom from addiction, hope, meaning, sanity, solvency and fulfillment of your dreams.
RANGDA/NEW POPE/MAJOR STARS, Out of the Blue Gallery. I’d not seen Chris Corsano play more like rock drums (hope this description doesn’t make him cringe) and it was HEAVEN. The whole kit and caboodle of Rangda though—I could have listened for another hour and I’m not famous for my willingness to stand still for long periods of time. Love New Pope. And, ah, Major Stars, THE gleaming, sparkling, clobbering jewel in the crown of Bostonbridgeville.
Here’s footage of Rangda confusingly from NOT at that particular show:
Major Stars footage that IS from that show, en toto:
Research has revealed nothing for New Pope, alas.
75 DOLLAR BILL at Deep Thoughts in JP
very artistic shot from Alaina Stamatis:
For whateve worth I got Wood / Metal / Plastic / Pattern / Rhythm / Rock. Primo, seyz I.
Cotton Candy at Ladyfest Boston 2017 Benefit, Industry Labs. Cotton Candy are one of the only musical outfits I know that would work equally well in a bar, hospital, stadium or prison. They shone so brightly that nightly.
+ a show not played
GRIZZLER I think this might reveal some essentially corny (or possibly midwesternly corny?) aspect of my nature, but I found it pleasing in a life-imitating-the-spirit-of-the-art kind of way. Or life-thwarting-art-in-the-spirit-of-art way. Grizzler is an anarchist music collective of jazz/noise/experimental music weirdies, with a fluxuating number of persons, and that very cold night in question, there was maybe I dunno—8, 9, 10 people?— at hand. Yes, I was one of them. Yes, this is an anecdote. Anyway. Everything was set up. Then, as things finally were about to start, the fire alarm at they venue went off in a hideous blare. This, followed by the arrival of fire trucks in the freezing dark night and fire fighters holding hatchets and all the lights which looked a little stagey followed by the eventual, reluctant recognition Grizzler would not be playing after all—and a glum troupe (see what I did there?) home–oh, it seemed rather perfect. I dunno, I suppose you had to be there.
Germaine to little: I hope to hear the “E” rekkid soon, soon.