I Survived the Stranger Genius Awards!

OK, I'm not important enough to get an invite, but my friend Jim is, so we showed up to witness the carnage. The Moore was smelling fairly old last night, in case you're interested. This was the scene on the stage when I arrived:

The reason for the crowd was that the food and booze were up there. Here's a better shot of where they were giving out free drinks:

I went last year, but that was a lot different. For one thing, there were a lot more people. And there seemed to be much more enthusiasm. Last night was sedate by comparison. After a fashion, they got down to handing out the awards. Here's D.K. Pan holding perfectly still for about a minute:

It was a little bit awkward, a guy not moving or talking or anything, but it eventually ended. It was just a prologue to what turned out to be quite a short ceremony. Here's a bad picture of my favorite Stranger writer, Paul Constant:

And here's a slightly better shot of Jen Graves:

And those are all of my photos. Like I said, the whole ceremony was notably brief. Last year, one recipient in particular, Jim Woodring, gave a wonderful, funny and rather lengthy acceptance speech. This year, there was none of that. Everyone pretty much collected the loot ($5,000 and some kind of trophy-thing) and waltzed off.

You know, for the last two months, I've been trying to get someone - anyone - on the Stranger staff to listen to my album and write about it. So far, my efforts and repeated follow-ups have come to nothing. Although there were plenty of Stranger-folk milling around last night, I figured that wasn't the time or place to flog my disc to them. I think I was wrong. After all, it's a worthy effort. People seem to dig it quite a bit. I should have probably cornered somebody about it. But I didn't. Oh well, another opportunity squandered. At least they had free booze. That was worth something.

Coming Soon to the Moore!

Showtunes! Oh, joy! To tell you the truth, I'm a big Irving Berlin fan. He was a guy who could only play in one key, but man, did he have chops. I'm certainly not going to this show. There's a big difference between a jazz standard and a showtune. It generally has to do with the arrangement. Showtunes are arranged with the vocals in the forefront, and a jazz standard is all about chord changes. So yes, I would probably not enjoy this thing, but feel free to go if you want.

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Here's something I might actually go to. They present it just about every year - usually for just a few performances, but in today's weird economic climate, why not put it on for more than two weeks? I'll probably see it next week. It might be fantastic, but maybe not. I'll let you know either way.

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These guys are in my top ten for least favorite band name. Also on that list are Minus the Bear, Limp Bizkit, Puddle of Mudd, Panic at the Disco (yes, we all love the Smiths, but not THAT much), Hoobastank, Less Than Jake, Jimmy Eat World and Rocket from the Crypt. Yeah, Passion Pit is right up there.

Recently at the Moore

OK, this is a little late. I was hard at work on a new tune yesterday. But it bears mentioning that the central attraction of this event was - wait for it - watching a guy bake a cake. Yeah, I like cake, too, but would I buy a ticket to watch a guy bake one? No, don't be absurd. Honestly, who would do that? I mean, how exciting could it be? Sure, it would probably make the Moore smell great, but you're paying to watch a guy bake a cake. He might be the boss of cakes, but seriously, what the hell? If I'm missing something here, let me know. It just seems that there are many other better entertainment options out there. Why watch a guy bake a cake?

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OK, I've been remiss once again with the blogging. I have a good excuse. Here goes: I spent a good chunk of this week writing a song about fish and cutting a music video about rockets. Neither is completely done, but I'm getting there. OK, so the Moore. I couldn't figure out what the heck was up with this guy's name until I heard that he's got a Hungarian last name that is best spelled out phonetically. When you start out with something that looks like Szekely, you get CK at the end of it. To be perfectly honest with you, I went around for an entire year calling Zoltan Kodaly "Zoltan Kodally," instead of the correct "Ko-dye." True story. Anyhow, it's worth mentioning that Hungarians are my second favorite foreign people. I've had some spectacular adventures there. Anyhow, Louis CK isn't that kind of Hungarian, but I imagine I'd get along with him if we met.

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I don't have cable, so I have no idea about this show. All I know is that Chelsea Handler looks great from a distance, but is quite scary close up. It's kind of a wonder that she's still alive. Apparently, this gig features some of the comedians from her show. But probably not her. Who knows? From what I've seen of Chelsea Handler, I kind of admire her quick wit, but, at the same time, she frightens me. Anyhow, I'm not gonna be around for this, so it doesn't really concern me.

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Well, guess who's still around! Yeah, apparently their latest effort is quite palatable. I saw the video on VH1. Well, I commend them for not letting teen idol-dom utterly destroy their lives. I'm pretty sure that somebody like Justin Bieber won't be so lucky. I'm still trying to understand the appeal. He's got that extra-dumb haircut, he can't sing and he's Canadian. Can anyone explain? I mean, with Hanson you could see the scream appeal. Plus, their music wasn't completely stupid. So now they're all grown up and out to prove something. Good for them! I wish them luck.

The Stranger Genius Awards

Well, the Moore was the scene on Friday night as the Stranger handed out its annual Genius Awards: $5,000 and the respect of one's peers, but most importantly, 5,000 bucks. I always find myself feeling extremely socially awkward at these events, as I don't like to talk about my creative endeavors with those I don't know. And since my life consists pretty much of creative endeavors, I don't have much to talk about. But thanks to the magic of alcohol - they had an open bar onstage (ahh, "open bar," the two sweetest words in the English language, my friends) - I was able to engage in conversations about different things with various interesting people.

That's what the stage looked like after a few visits to the bar. Incidentally, the bartender was super-nice. Anyhow, I'd say the attendance for the ceremony was over 500. The point was later made by one of the presenters, I think it was, that if everyone in the place disappeared, Seattle would become a true cultural wasteland. Honestly, I've always felt that we were already there. But equally as honestly, the work done by most of the recipients persuades me that we aren't quite there yet.

I have to say that the Moore smelled really nice on that very rainy night. It was probably because of the legion of art-people's collective rarefied scent. Either that or the Moore staff has been using a lot of Febreze.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I was only acquainted with the work of a few of the winners. For a complete rundown on everyone's work, go here. I knew Jim Woodring's stuff best. He managed to give the best acceptance speech. He was quite funny. Here he is midway through accepting:

That's Paul Constant, one of my all-time favorite Stranger staff writers, looking on.

As for the others, I'm vowing to take in a Marya Sea Kaminsky production and rifle through the Internet to find art by Susie Lee. On the other hand, I'm probably not going to see the film by Charles Mudede and Rob Devor. I dunno, but when it comes to sex with horses, I draw the line at Equus. As for Shabazz Palaces, I came home and looked them up on YouTube. I must be missing something. I'm not a hip-hop fan in the first place, so I think that has to disqualify me from proffering my opinion. It was a bit odd that performers supposedly of their caliber weren't able to assemble any kind of acceptance speech. OK, their joke about giving Charles Mudede a ride five years previous in exchange for a this year's Genius Award was pretty much their saving grace. Still, nobody could outdo Jim Woodring.

After all the loot was handed out, I hung out for a while talking to people and left before Shabazz Palaces took the stage. Just one last thing: in the past, I've ridiculed The Stranger for their self-importance and clubbiness. But, whether or not, you or I agree with the worthiness of the winners of this or any year, this award proves that the paper is much more than a bunch of critics giving thumbs-up or thumbs-down. I salute The Stranger for giving the Seattle arts scene, such as it is, this level of support and exposure. So congratulations, all winners and thanks again to The Stranger for the open bar.

As usual, your move, Seattle Weekly.

Coming Soon to the Moore!

I'm actually going to this tonight. My friend Jim scored tickets to the pre-event thing. It should be interesting. Out of all this year's winners, I'm only acquainted with the work of Jim Woodring. I find his stuff very good and trippy. I'm slightly suspect of Charles Mudede. I mean, these awards are sponsored by the Stranger and Mudede has written for them for years. Isn't that a slight conflict of interest? On the other hand, he has written a movie - one that sounds very disturbing. So maybe the award is merited. I've also never heard Shabazz Palaces. I'll get to hear them tonight. OK, then.

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Yeah, that Asia. You know, even back when they first made the scene in 1982, they were looking kind of old and sounding quite Eurotrashy. Lord knows what they look like these days, but I'm sure they'll play a fine version of "Heat of the Moment," a catchy tune that makes little or no sense. It doesn't matter. Seriously, I remember the time and the place when I first saw the video (1982 - while I was recovering from an appendectomy in Edmonds, where I was living at the time) and it seemed every bit as dumb as it is in this day and age, but hey, everybody said they were a supergroup, so it was OK. I just never figured out which groups they came from. I did some research. In no particular order: Yes, Emerson, Lake & Palmer, the Buggles and some other band. So yeah, impressive, but Asia was so much more than that. They were slick, predictable and supremely bland. Plus, their lyrics didn't quite make sense; they generally sounded like they were written by someone whose first language wasn't English. They were just right for 1982. I'm glad they're still touring. They were much better than many other bands.

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At first, this show reminded me in a very tangential way of The Office episode where Michael has a fun run to combat rabies. The point is made over and over again that rabies is a treatable disease and that the event is completely unnecessary. I kind of felt the same way about this show. I mean, BP has at least $20 billion to give away. That much cash can smooth over quite a few financial bumps amongst those who were impacted by the disaster. Plus the oil seems to be dissipating quite nicely, thank you very much. So why have a benefit concert? Well, it turns out that the proceeds go to the Gulf Restoration Network, an organization keeping a close eye on both the government and BP. That's a fine thing. In addition to having various Seattle musicians of note (Duff McKagan, Mike McCready, Kim Virant, Mark Pickerel and my personal backgammon nemesis, Ty Bailie, among others) onstage, there will be a silent auction AND a couple guys from Deadliest Catch talking about stuff. So yeah, my verdict: necessary.

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Joan's been around forever. She's released something like 19 albums and worked in a variety of styles. Why doesn't she have the following that most veteran performers garner? Well, it might be that she's not that great. I remember that back in the eighties, there was a big push for the album The Key and its single, "Drop the Pilot." It was on the radio for weeks. What struck me was that even back then, Armatrading had something of a reputation as a singer-songwriter of distinction and every tune I heard from that album was completely ordinary. In addition, her harmonic vocabulary never seemed to stray from the regular I-IV-V progression that rules all of pop music. So even though there were constant claims and assertions that Joan was an eclectic performer, what I was hearing was merely mainstream pop music. I haven't heard all 19 albums, so maybe I'm missing something, but for Pete's sake, she's been in the music biz as long as Elton John, and he still fills huge venues. Joan does not. Maybe the indifference is justified.

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You remember this guy? He came through town last year. He's the Hasid who sings reggae tunes about religious devotion. Yeah, it's every bit as terrible as you can imagine. Me, after listening to Joanna Newsom sing on the YouTube, I have been to the edge. He's not as bad as that. It's just that pop music is all about conciseness and when you have a guy singing about the "foundation of the essence of the being," it sounds kind of clunky and contrived. But I've gotta hand it to him, he does fake reggae better than most. But he's still pretty terrible.

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No matter how hard we try, some sounds cannot be unheard. Newsom's voice is one of those. Sure, she's quite cute and a very capable harp player. But that voice... I'll try to describe it. OK, she sounds like a cross between an angry six-year-old and a crazy person. Her tone is grating, her pitch is uncertain at all times and she's constantly singing out of her range. Listening to her is a painful experience. Yes, I know that in the realm of indie music, having a distinctive voice is very important. Singing out of tune is pretty much de rigeur - or at least there are so many indie singers who can't carry a tune in a bucket that it seems like an unwritten rule. I realize that. That's fine. But Newsom's voice truly crosses the line from "distinctive" to "terrible." Anyone going to this show truly has my sympathy.

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Way back in the day, when I first heard about these guys, I thought that their name was a bold move. I mean, it comes from a Monty Python sketch. I expected a lot from them. Unfortunately, from the very start, I really hated all their stuff. Yes, it's nice that they're still together, touring, and, most probably, releasing albums. And it's also nice that they've always been a pop band, but really, I still hate their music. Nothing can change that, because it hasn't gotten better with age. I've always been able to discern their appeal and I can see why people would like their music, but it's just too cloying for my taste. But if you dig them, have a fine time at their show.

Coming Soon to the Moore!

I wonder what the heck this is. Could it be somebody standing on the Moore's stage saying, "OK, black people, achieve, achieve, achieve!" I really don't know. I'm pretty sure this event is doubly not for me, as 1) I'm not black; and 2) I haven't really achieved anything. But let's wish everybody who can check "yes" in both columns much enjoyment and whatnot.

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When I first saw this on the marquee, I thought, "Whoa, nineties! Who's playing there next, Toad the Wet Sprocket?" Well, guess who's playing there next? Toad the Wet Sprocket! Seriously! Golly, my cynicism is prophetic! And I owe it all to the collapse of civilization and the promise of a bleak future.

NOT Coming Soon to the Moore!

Now you see them...

...Now you don't!

I was going to do a post last week talking about what a bad name this is for a band, but does it matter now? I'm sure that they sound splendid, as they're two-thirds of the Dixie Chicks, but the name is still - in the style of Charles Barkley - turrubul. It's funny that there are still places in this great land where the Chicks are not welcome. And all that ire was directed at them for saying back in 2003 that they were ashamed that George W. Bush was from Texas during a gig in London. Honestly, it wasn't the most burning dis of all time, but it was conflated as such by mega-corporate radio, wingnut operatives and the like. Jeez, given the reaction, they should have gone a lot farther than that - maybe making a few prophetic statements about America someday regaining its senses or George Bush being the idiot everyone supposed he was and whatnot. But they bore the brunt of the overreaction and took it quite personally. I guess there was no other way to take it. Anyhow, here it is seven years later and most of us look at that time as a shaky structure of fear atop hatred atop stupidity atop insanity. And under it all is of course a parking garage. It's not important at this moment. The concert's off. Oh, and incidentally, they spelled "canceled" wrong. Is our children learning? No, apparently they isn't.

Coming Soon to the Moore!

Ah, now here's a very good reason to change all your medical instructions to DO NOT RESUSCITATE. Yeah, since the Spice Girls, the world has fortunately been totally over girl bands. That was a terrible time, wasn't it? But this particular one is Asian. Does that make any difference? No. If anything, it should be even worse than your average girl band. There's a lot that doesn't translate. And with the backdrop of of the Moore, I don't think these poor girls are doing themselves any favors. I mean, it's old, creaky, smelly and dour. It doesn't exactly scream "girl power," does it? Well, even former American Idol champ, Jordin Sparks, is playing the much smaller Showbox, so I guess these gals should count their blessings. And what would serve as an appropriate opening band for a girl group? A boy group! They're called 2AM - and they all appear to be completely heterosexual. After surveying the bill, all I can say is this: GOD HELP US ALL!!!