Soap Box

I love how San Franciscans will tolerate their neighborhoods being used for just about anything... as long as it's fun.

Saturday was another splendid sunny day, perfect for getting into costumes and rolling funny looking cars down steep hills.

Dolores Park, plus three or four blocks of Dolores Street hosted the annual Red Bull Soapbox Race.

I hadn't planned to attend, but it was just so darned nice out, my friends and I walked the ten or so blocks over to the park and spread out a blanket. About a hundred thousand other people had the same idea. Apparently a record turn out for the event. Blame the sun.

From our vantage point, one couldn't see much of the course but Red Bull was nice enough to put up a couple of big screens, so essentially we just watched the event on television while it was going on right over there.

No matter. We had a great time watching team after team, yammer some cockamamie story to the hosts at the top of the hill, then play a musical selection along with some kind of choreographed dance, before jumping into their zany coaches and tossing themselves full speed down the hay bailed boulevard.


The contestants ranged from real life garbage men in their mini garbage truck, to some college math geeks in their Rubik's Cubemobile, to some Trekkies and their rolling Death Star. Contestants were judged not only on speed, but on creativity and excitement

There were some good laughs and wipe outs, but my favorite part of the event was the end.

The race was over, the big screens went black, but someone was nice enough to keep some music playing. This is the part where people would normally pick up their stuff and head to the next stop for the day. But not this time. Most of the crowd stayed right where they were, splayed out on the grass on a beautiful day surrounded by friends and neighbors.

It took a zany, fun event to get us all to the park. But once we were all there, we realized there was no better place to be.

Congratulations to the winning garbage man team.

Flying Skulls

This show sort of just fell in my lap. My friend Christie called me down to the Madrone Lounge on Wednesday night to see a free show. This is great news for a broke guy. The Madrone is a pretty stylish place, decorated in what I would call skater chic, the art and design sensibilities that pervade the Lower Haight neighborhood where I live. It rides the line between expensive and divey, adorned with a rotating exhibit of pricey local paintings, a gorgeous carved wood bar, and an array of infused vodkas, but also has homey couches, cheap drink specials and many free music shows. It reflects the mixed crowd that lives in and around the neighborhood.

I checked the Madrone calendar and found that The Flying Skulls were playing. I had never heard of them, but the free price and the words "nu school electro breaks" used in their description sounded interesting enough for me to take the four block walk down the hill.

I thought they'd start playing right at 10pm. Silly rabbit. I forgot to notice the "and friends" after their name in the calendar. A couple of really good djs played before them. One guy opened and closed the evening with some dance floor friendly tracks spun from his laptop/vinyl Final Scratch setup. I enjoyed his tracks and selections. He started the show slow and groovy, and ended the night with uptempo dance floor friendly tracks - the only ones that really got anyone on the dance floor for the evening.

Another fine gentleman rocked an Ableton Live set with some crazy uptempo beats. He was on fire with his PC-less knob & button station, twirlin' and queuein', fadin' & groovin'. But still only a smattering of dancers.

Only the truly foolish will try and judge the merits of music. But I sometimes remember that one objective metric that can sometimes say a lot about a DJ. If the music is uptempo and there are people ready and willing to dance.... then why aren't they?

Around midnight or so, the Flying Skulls came on. Three guys, one with a keyboard, and two others with some random electronics. From the buzz I had heard on the street, I was expecting them to blow my mind.

They didn't though. And the guy that was buzzing about them actually got arrested that night. Go figure. This is why one must see a group for one's self.

I enjoyed the music. There was groove to it for sure. To me it sounded like if the Gorillaz made a full length movie, this would be the background music. It had a slow movement to it, more lively than ambient, but mostly not dance worthy. The crowd reacted appropriately in my estimation. Stand with your drink and bob your head along with the band.

The DJ that followed them proved the crowd was indeed prepared and willing to dance. He threw on some soulful tracks that got everyone going.

So the question is... If the crowd doesn't dance, is it a success?

I suppose that depends on the genre and the expectation of the audience. But somehow in this case it felt like it mattered.

Decompression

This Sunday was Decompression in San Francisco, a party thrown by and for Burning Man participants that acts as a reunion to the bigger, dustier party thrown in the Black Rock Desert the month before.

I wasn't sure I was going to attend the event this year. I have been to a few. It's a nice way to spend a sunny day, but I am usually all about the music, and I didn't recognize more than a couple of names slated to perform. But enough of my friends were going, that I dug out my playa costume gear and headed for the Dogpatch neighborhood where the party is thrown every year.

Just getting to the party was an exercise in radical self expression. I don't have a car, and can't afford a taxi, so I was relegated to taking the 22 Fillmore bus across town in freaky raver attire. Starting my journey, I felt a little bit ridiculous. But little by little as we got closer to the event, more and more colorful folks boarded the bus. And by the time we reached the event, we found ourselves steeped shoulder to shoulder among our freaky brethren. Suddenly I was almost not ridiculous enough. More face stickies, please!

The line to get tickets ($10 in costume, $20 without) was a good two blocks long, but the volunteer staff kept the line moving fast, and we were in within ten or fifteen minutes.

After reuniting with some playa friends, we collectively chose a direction - The Opulent Temple & Deep End stage. I went straight for the sun bathed dance stage at the front and proceeded to boogie down with the colorful crowd, faces emblazoned with industrial strength smiles. All of us knew we were in paradise. Why would any of us be anywhere else today?

The housey elektro beats Opel was playing were fun, but we were ready for something different, so at some point, our group moved on to The Space Cowboys' RIPE stage. An equally brilliant crowd was pumping next to the mobile groove center graced with a disco-ball-mirrored limousine parked right beside.

DJ Mancub started spinning some breaks and that was all I needed to camp out there as long as necessary to deplete either the music or my leg muscles, whichever came first. Every now and then I'd get lost in the crowd. At one point, my friend Heather said "Now I know how to find you whenever you're lost. Just go toward the speakers." I nodded in agreement and smiled.

Then I noticed Jim Shissler (aka Shissla) standing behind Mancub. I didn't remember seeing his name on the roster, but I was certainly encouraged by this development.

There's a back story behind Jim that I must impart here.

Jim has been my hands down favorite DJ for years. I love breaks, and Jim plays the best. His skills are masterful, and he never disappoints, not even for one track... ever. To me, Jim is a celebrity.... one of my favorite celebrities.

Last year at Burning Man, I got the opportunity to DJ on our camp's art car. I made up some CDs of the breaks I was playing. In case anyone seemed to be especially enjoying the music, I could give them as gifts. I decided to make up a CD for Jim and scribbled a thank you note on it, a humble offering for all of the great music he has graced me with over the years. While Jim was spinning on the House of Lotus art car, I caught his attention and laid the gift along with some chocolate chip cookies next to him and gave a little bow of thanks.

Weeks later, he sent me an email thanking me for the gift and attached a cute picture one of his campmates took of my CD next to his sleeping head. Cute.

After my trip this year, I got an update email from Jim listing some events he was playing, and also mentioned he had updated his website. I noticed that the photo of him sleeping next to my CD was on the site! Awesome!

So now (back to the decomp party) this was the first time I had seen him since I've been back, so I went over to say hello. He doesn't know me, so I said "Hi Jim. I'm Miles. You posted a picture of my CD on your website."

Jim went ape shit. To my delight, he was super happy to see me. He introduced me to a couple of his friends and we chatted for a bit. He truly appreciated my gift. I guess it meant a lot to both of us. He told me, also to my delight, that he was about to go on in a few minutes. Perfect. There is no place I'd rather be than a Shissla set.

There isn't much I can say about his performance, but "Holy cow." Jim was also working with the Dust City Diner earlier in the day serving grilled cheese sandwiches. Now, still wearing his apron, he served up the breakbeats like a champ. He has a way of channeling the crowd's own energy into his own performance. He clearly loves the music he is playing. Those who have been to his shows know what to expect and are never disappointed. Others who may have just wandered up only know that they've found a party they're not likely to leave until it's over.

People (including Jim) bouncing, dancing, waving their hands, wide eyed, grinning ear to ear... occasionally looking at each other in astonishment, shaking their heads in disbelief. That's a Shissla show.

Later on after the set, my legs were quivering toothpicks, my back ached, and after six hours of dancing, I was generally exhausted and ready to go home. But what a great way to get that way. I couldn't help but marvel all day long at how lucky I am to live among such fun people... people that make this happen.... people who know how to have fun and aren't afraid to get freaky.

It's truly inspiring.

[review]

Glitch Mob

For weeks I knew about this show. But I was torn. I had two other things on my calendar: My friend Annie Bacon had a show happening in Bolinas and another friend was having a super fun birthday party near the panhandle. Also, the $20 ticket price for the Glitch Mob show seemed expensive and I'm a little on the broke side.

But then it got down to the day of the show and a couple of friends called to make sure I was going too. Ok, now I can feel the jealousy coming on. Tickets are selling fast. It's sure to sell out. I don't think I can miss it. Damn it!

I went down to the Mezzanine to buy tickets from the box office. I hate paying those Internet fees and I also wanted a real ticket in my hot little hands so I wouldn't have to wait in the inevitable will call line. But no luck. No box office today. So back to the Internet to buy my will call ticket. Hmph.

That night, I met a few friends at Anu bar around the corner from Mezzanine for a pre-show cocktail. A guy I know, Ben (aka Porkchop) was spinning some heavy Whomp beats. I like Anu because there is no cover and the crowd is generally pretty cool. We figured the party might really get going at Mezzanine around 11, so we hung out there for a bit.

Big mistake.

When 11 rolled around and we walked around the corner to go to the show, there was a line a half block long just for will call. I knew the will call line would be a drag, but I didn't know it would be a good forty five minute wait. The crowd outside was fun though, and I couldn't help noticing how damned glamorous many of the folks were, in their own playa chic vs. hipster DJ best. It seemed like an underground Hollywood premier or something. I kept wanting to see giant search lights waving in the sky.

When we finally made it inside, the place was already more full than I had ever seen it. There were a couple of DJs rocking the house and the energy was already awesome. Everyone was dancing. No spectators. I tossed my hoodie on a speaker and we headed straight for the front of the stage.

I didn't know who the DJs were at the time, but it turns out they were Megasoid, a couple of awesome producer/remixer/djs from Montreal. They played a high energy set of synthy elektro hip hop they have coined "turbo crunk" (heh). Really excellent stuff. Everyone, and I mean everyone in the place, was hitting the ceiling. I mean getting down for real.... all the way to the back of the club. Not a crew of dancers at the front of the club and stand-and-schmoozers in the back. Everyone was dancing. I have rarely seen such great energy from a crowd at any show.

After a brief intermission, The Glitch Mob, a four man DJ crew came on. Known for pushing forward the relatively new glitch subgenre of electronica, they have been touring around the country spreading the word.. er.. beat. Glitch gets its name from the sounds used to make the music which sound sort of like electronics breaking down, crashing, skipping, etc. It's a way to make great music out of otherwise painful sounds.

The guys inherited a great energy from the previous performers. The crowd kept on dancing even during the break. And they kept the party going admirably for the better part of the show. I eventually had to abandon my prime real estate at the front of the stage just to escape the intense heat coming off the sweaty bodies.

The music was great, and the crowd was pretty stoked about it. But I was hoping to hear some of the great remixes I had heard recently. Also, as seems to happen at some shows, is that the tempo of the music actually slows down over the course of the show. I would think one would build up the crowd to a speedy frenzy as a finale... I have heard that it's good DJ practice to let your crowd rest now and then so they have the energy to stay on the dance floor. But eventually I just got tired and lost the big energy I had started with, and started to lose interest. Could be heat... could be overexertion, dehydration. But I am going with the tempo.

I also noticed what seemed to be a cheesy Hollywood factor that seemed to have crept up on them. They wore matching business suits, pumped their fists, and shouted rah-rah hip hop-ese to the crowd. (e.g. "Wu's up San Franciscoooooooo?!"). They are clearly popular and talented, and whatever they have been doing seems to be working for them. But some of it seemed distracting and unnecessary.

I will continue to download and listen to anything and everything they put out. I truly believe these guys are a major force in a new direction of music. That's ultimately why I felt like I had to go to the show. It was not to be missed.

I have to say, I enjoyed myself more during the Megasoid set, who as it turns out, have begun working with the mighty Ninja Tune label.

After the show, I headed to the house where that birthday party was still going on. I got to get down in a more intimate atmosphere with some super great folks to some fantastic soul and disco spun skillfully by Chard, who works at Ko Ko Cocktails on Sunday nights. I had just as much fun dancing to his set as I did at the Mezzanine. Apples and oranges though.

Maybe I'll go check out his set at Ko Ko's tomorrow night.

[review]

Nikka Costa

After an exhausting day at Love Fest, I still had one more show to see to round out the busy weekend. Nikka Costa.

I saw her once before at the same venue, The Independent. It had been awhile, but I remembered being so blown away by it, I knew it was a must see... so I bought myself a ticket.

My friend Elena said she wanted to come, so I planned to meet her down there. I walked by the box office to see what time Nikka would go on, and I saw the sold out sign. Doh! It must have sold out in just the past couple of hours. I didn't notice anyone selling tickets outside, so I called her told her the situation and she turned her City Car Share around.

It wasn't long after going inside, though, that I struck up a conversation with a girl who's friends actually had an extra ticket. I made the call to Elena, but she had already checked the car back in... Ugh.

My timing was great though. After only a couple of minutes, Ms. Costa came on and busted out another great show.

Her music is a mix of R&B, funk, and pop music. Her voice reminds me a little of Chaka Khan. Very powerful, yet cute. Her band was superb and had a couple of guitarists, a keyboard player and even a couple of horns. Each band member got his or her time to shine and show everyone their substantial chops. After some initial adjustments with the sound mixing, the show was just phenomenal. It was a shame though that her new albut wouldn't release for another week, so I hadn't gotten a chance to hear some of the music and compare it to the stage arrangements.

I remember wondering after the previous show how come she wasn't more popular. How come she isn't playing in bigger venues. It seemed like a coup to see her in such a small place, yet here she was again a couple years later in the same club.

The Independent tends to be a springboard for good artists. They tend to book only very talented artists that aren't extremely well known. When artists are very good, their popularity is generally bound to increase. So what usually happens is that artists play there once, and then by the time they return to the city again, they have outgrown the venue and graduate to The Fillmore auditorium - the next larger, yet still classy and somewhat intimate venue.

She did mention during her show, however, that she wasn't interested in playing larger and larger venues. She seemed to really enjoy interacting with the audience. She often called on us to be part of the band by clapping a certain pattern or singing a background part - stuff that with a bigger venue, just wouldn't have the same fun factor. She is a true performer and seems to have found her niche and enjoys keeping things real, right at this level.

I hope she does. I'll buy a ticket to her show any time she plays here, as long as it doesn't go bigger than The Fillmore.

Later, after the show, I wandered down to The Page, my local neighborhood bar a few blocks down from The Independent. At the bar, I was chatting with the funky looking fellow sitting next to me who turned out to be Nikka Costa's guitar player and musical director, Joshua Lopez.

Joshua and I had a lively discussion about the show and what could be improved, what worked well, etc. This was only their second show on a long tour, and I felt excited that he seemed to be really interested in what I had to say. We got along great, and I tried to pull him out to one of the great late night Love Fest parties going on around town (even though I was completely exhausted), but alas he had to run and get back on the tour bus which was about to leave for Salt Lake City.

Ah, the life of a touring musician. Shame. We would have had fun.

[review]

Love Fest

For the last few years, San Francisco has tried a small experiment. Spin off Berlin's famous Love Parade, a celebration and exhibition of electronic music that brings thousands out to dance into the street to music spun by some of the world's best DJs.

San Francisco's Love Fest has grown over it's first few years and now, it's clear, is a full fledged annual institution in the city.

It does start as a parade in the morning. Moving dance parties lumber down Market street, pumping their beats until they all settle in front of San Francisco's City Hall. A full city square block is closed to traffic, and somewhere in then neighborhood of twenty sound systems simultaneously pump fabulous beats to the sunny delight of the flamboyantly costumed crowd.

For this Saturday of the parade, the weather forecast had been daunting. Rain. The sunny memories I had of parades past were in jeopardy of being at least chilled, if not washed out altogether.

But I tried to remain optimistic, and in true SF weather style, the forecast was completely wrong and the day turned out sunny and warm as could be.

I donned my best playa wear and even borrowed a new pair of red velvet pants from my roommate Kathleen. Yes girls' pants. And they fit me like a glove.

I strolled down Oak Street looking like a refugee from The Soul Train, and in true SF jaded style, no one batted an eyelash. Once I got within about three blocks of the event, I started to see other freaks like me. In Hayes Valley, passers by were clearly a bit baffled by all the people walking around looking like they lost their circus, but once I did hear one guy say, "Oh yeah, Love Fest is today." But mostly, the downtown area was going about its business as if nothing was going on.... until you got to City Hall. It's amazing how you can push a hundred thousand party people into one square block of the city, and it hardly creates a ripple in the surrounding blocks.

I walked through the gate and tossed a small donation into a bucket and began the often futile task of finding my friends in the sea of madness. That task was actually secondary though to the task of finding the best music. I had written down a few DJ names I knew along with the name of the parade floats they'd be playing on. But it became clear that I may not find them, and that the best plan of action was to find a dance party you like.... and then dance.

I did a quick once around, popping into the crowd at a few parties, all the while texting my friends to see if we could meet up.

After an hour or so of surveying and sampling, I did manage to find my good friend Heather and her posse. I stuck more or less with them but popped off occasionally for a wander and to see what was going on at various stages.

I guess I spent most of my time that day on McAllister street where the Pink Mammoth crew, the NeuroWeapon car, and whoever was next to them. All three neighbors threw down seriously good beats all day long.

I did get to see Ana Sia again. Twice in two days. Crazy. I did note that her set was quite different from the set I had seen the night before. Her Love Fest set was great, but the tempos were often quite slow and I found it less danceable than the night before.

Also rocking the NeuroWeapon was David Starfire. I had never heard him before, but Heather had noted his presence, so I went to check him out. When I got there, I bumped into Paula, a girl I had met the night before at 1015. Not recognizing me in my costume, she handed me a flier for an after party that night... I squinted at her and lowered my shades. She laughed and gave me a big hug and we chatted some more about the music. It's funny how people who like similar music are bound to bump into one another over and over around here.

Starfire was the highlight of the day for me. His remixes were stellar, a diverse, upbeat mix of hard rock, hip hop, and breaks. The music on his Myspace page, however, rocks music with a more Indian flare. His sets could vary a great deal I imagine.

I knew I still had another show ahead of me that evening, and my legs were screaming for mercy from a full day and previous evening of dancing. So sadly I departed.

On the walk home, I found myself walking next to Ana Sia. I said hello and told her I enjoyed her sets, both today's and yesterday's. She said thank you. But wasn't very warm I have to say. Paula told me some DJs aren't super nice. I'll give her one more shot before passing any judgement of my own.

Great beats though, girl.

[review]

Ana Sia

My friend Christie showed some strong interest in going out dancing on Friday night and asked me for a suggestion. I have been trying to get out and see Ana Sia for awhile and knew she was on the bill for that night at 1015 Folsom. By looking at the flier, you'd think Ana was some super opening act and Adam Freeland was the main event. I had seen Freeland a couple of times already at Burning Man this year. I liked his sets. They had good energy and kept people dancing. Keeping to my tendency to describe music using at least three genres or artists, I would describe him as techno/elektro/rock.

But Ana Sia had been elusive to me. I had only seen her one time before at the Howeird Street Fair over a year ago. She was playing this glitchy hip hop (some call glitch hop) that was spinning the sunny daytime crowd into a groovy frenzy. She is one of those artists that clearly feels the groove of her own set and dances right along with the crowd while putting her set together. She has a focused intensity while playing, turning knobs and staring at her electronics, while her petite frame bobs and rocks to the beat. It's a cue to the crowd just how funky the beat is. And they seem to take the cues from her.

Finally I had a chance to see her again.

Christie was hot to run down to the club around 10 pm. I said "No way." I know a little about the tendency of these late night clubs to be virtually empty until it starts getting really late. She was worried about missing a good act. But I knew we would just be standing around for hours. No earlier than 11:30 in my opinion.

About quarter to midnight, we got to the club and guess what? Three of the four dance floor rooms were shut. Only the front room was open. Only around a hundred people in a club designed to hold one or two thousand.

After midnight, the main room finally opened and DJ Mehdi started playing. We were satisfied that we could hang with his music for awhile if need be, but after a bit took a walk to check other rooms. An-ten-nae and Laura were playing in the front room and were rocking some strong glitchy beats. We were sold and stuck around there dancing. It was clear that the front room and main room had completely different crowds. There were clearly some more playa costumes and the crowd had a more spiritual look while the main room had a more mainstream following. There was no clear headliner in this club tonight. Two distinct main events.

I love the burners. They are generally warm, friendly, love to adorn themselves in delightful attire, and love to dance. That night was no exception.

After a bit, Ana Sia got on the decks and continued the thoughts of her predecessors, but all I really remember is that the groove got turned up a notch. I just remember looking all around me on the dance floor with faces looking astounded at how funky, how hard the groove was, how much fun this music was.

The place wasn't packed though. As best I could tell, this was because it was Love Week. The Love Parade was to start early the next morning, and those inclined to listen to music like this likely had grand plans to dance and party all day Saturday and probably well into Sunday. Only the hard core fans made it out the night before to see their "must see" artists.

I probably would have been in the more conservative group without having been encouraged by Christie to attend.

I'm glad we did.

[review]

Dispelled

This week's minor tragedy. A comparison of the marketing photo of a yummy looking double bacon burger and the real life version. The author writes, "they tasted like greasy sadness."

Full story

MSTRKRFT

I love their name, MSTRKRFT . It's a sign of the times. There are some other bands, products, and even businesses with names like this - abbreviated almost beyond recognition. Many people use Motorola's RAZR cell phone, or the Flickr photo sharing website.

There are a couple of reasons I am aware of for this not-so-new trend. First is the rise of texting. Typing messages with your thumb on tiny cell phone keypads is something to be minimized. Folks have learned to abbreviate in a way that is both efficient and (usually) understandable, and so now have become accustomed to reading and writing this way. Second is the scarcity of decent Internet domain names. If you want your name on the net with the almighty .com extension, you almost have to do something crazy to the name to find one that isn't already taken.

So now that we have that out of the way....

These guys, the best I can gather, are producer/DJ's. Talented, in-demand. I have never really heard an actual album of original music from them, but have heard some impressive remixes and good reviews of their work. My spider senses told me that I should check out their show last night at Mezzanine.

I don't have much disposable income these days, and struggled with whether to get a ticket for a show I didn't know much about... but somehow my legs still walked me right over to their box office the day of the show. My legs made me do it.

I didn't show up for the opening acts. I knew that would be too much standing around, especially since I was going by myself, so I had some drinks at home with Kathleen and Elena and headed down around 11. Even showing up that late, two other DJ's preceded their appearance.

When they did come on, they revealed an impressive stage setup for what is really just two DJ's on the stage. A wall of television screens with some very exciting and vivid video effects. They were silhouetted inside the video madness and appeared as two shadowy figures, complete with hipster cap and bouncy DJ moves. Every now and then one smoked a cigarette. Other than that, you couldn't see much of them. So they, the artists, still remain quite mysterious to me. If I had bumped into one after the show, I wouldn't have recognized him.

I knew from the few remixes I had heard that their style would probably contain a fair amount of elektro. I have a Drum & Bass remix from them in my collection, and even a remix of a heavy metal song. Would they play their remixes? Would there be vocals? I didn't have any idea what I would hear.

As it turned out, their show was a pretty homogeneous set of solid, dance floor friendly elektro-house. I had a great time and so did about half the crowd who was packed close to the stage on the dance floor for majority of the show. However, for a talented pair who have worked with music from a wide range of artists, I expected to hear more variety.

That isn't, however, a complaint. I am satisfied that I got my money's worth, and it was great to see them play out, and they had the most visually interesting setup I've seen in a small club since Coldcut played there awhile back.

Only regreet: I should have found some ear plugs. Their amps were turned to 11.

Upcoming show: Nikka Costa @ The Independent, Saturday Oct 4

Reboot

Ok.

After a fairly successful run at blogging during my travels this year, I think I should keep it going. I got some good feedback from friends and other readers, and it has been enjoyable for me as well to read my own thoughts many of which I have forgotten even after only a few months.

So! I will make a go at reinvigorating this, my original general purpose blog, which I stopped writing a couple of years ago. Why? Not sure. Lost inspiration I suppose. The traveling re-inspired me. New experiences, new settings, new people. Whatever it was, it worked.

What I have been thinking for this run is to continue the general musings I recorded in the past. But this time I'd like to include my own music reviews and other general delights I find around the web or in my email.

One thing I like to do in San Francisco is see shows. DJ's, live bands, whatever. I'll probably still write them in a narrative fashion and not in an authoritative way. I've always wanted to review music, even for just my friends to read. In the past couple of years, I have spent a fair amount of my free time reading about and listening to new music, always looking for that next great artist. And guess what? There are lots and lots of great artists out there, new and old. And there's nothing more fun for me than to go and see them in an intimate setting. I am over the big stadium and festival shows. The sound is usually awful and I don't really like crowds anyway.

The rest of the postings may appear in a boing boing like format. Random stuff just thrown up there for your ammusement.

Once again! Let's see how long I can keep this up.

Filter

I'm very interested in the idea of using the Internet to let people help each other.

You have surely seen websites such as Amazon and Netflix that use software called a recommendation engine to try and steer you toward other products you might be interested in. It's a very effective marketing tool, however it's rare for me to discover any new really great music this way. At the same time, I regularly go out to public places where I do hear really great music I'm not aware of. So I know it's out there.

Systems like Amazon's use a technique called collaborative filtering to try and match the tastes of others to your tastes. This method is good for finding others with similar music collections, but doesn't take any of the qualities of the music itself into account when making a recommendation.

A new service called Pandora tries to remedy this by hiring a staff of music experts to painstakingly listen to lots of music and catalog the musical qualities of the music. By matching songs you like to others with similar musical qualities such as genre, tempos, chord progressions, type of lyrics, etc, Pandora can pick music that is similar to songs you choose.

Pandora then plays a radio station for you of music similar to your taste. I like to listen to the music on Pandora, but I still rarely get any really great new recommendations. I'm still more likely to hear something better by going down to a local hot spot. I regularly ask staff members "what's playing right now?" only to get an indifferent shrug most of the time.

In the mean time, I have made two really good recommendations for friends in the past month. I hear something new and immediately think of people who I think would like it. The surprising part is that I have had a pretty stellar record of success in that my friends tend to really enjoy what I recommend.

To me this is vague evidence that maybe humans are better recommenders than computer algorithms. What if humans could recommend music to one another instead of computers. What a concept.

Wouldn't it be nice if you could put out a list of your favorite songs that are similar. Maybe even some text describing what you like about them. Then other users having the same favorite songs on their lists could read yours and suggest new ones to you.

Why would they do this grand favor for you? Well in my last few ideas, I've used the give and take model. By giving good recommendations to other users, you put yourself in a better position to get recommendations by others. Give some, get some in return.

I'll discuss this idea with others to see if they would think getting better recommendations would make them likely to spend some of their own energy to do so. I'll also see if I can find anyone else doing anything similar.

Here's one interesting article I've found.

Furniture

I decided last week that it was time to explore a new hobby.

One of the things that has always bothered me about my software development career is that it is just too darn abstract. The work I do only exists inside the computer. If the power goes out, it's as if it never existed. If I want to show someone work I have done recently, I have to bring them to a computer. Something about this has always bugged me. It's as if what I do is imaginary. I realize that my work is generally quite useful to those who use it, and often saves people large amounts of money in more efficient operations. But still, I have an envy for those who create things more concrete. Things.

Somehow, furniture has always intrigued me as something both useful and, at time, graceful and stylish. Furniture is something everyone needs. Furniture is something everyone understands. Furniture is something that lasts. Hopefully. But most importantly, furniture is something you can touch, sit on, sleep on, stand on.... Its real.

Making useful things has always been important to me, and has led me in to the software industry. What's missing to me lately, has been this notion of a concrete solidness to my work.

Furniture seems such an intriguing area, that I feel I should explore it further. I don't have any real woodworking experience, nor much crafts or design experience for that matter. I am completely green, with only curiosity to fuel me.

To document my journey, I have started a separate blog, Concrete Utility. The name describes the two most important aspects of furniture to me. It's certainly far from prose, but I hope it helps me remember what I have learned along the way and to keep track of tips and resources. Maybe it will even help someone else along a similar journey if they somehow come across it.

A new hobby. Just like that.

Amos

Something must be wrong with me.

This past weekend was supposed to be dedicated to packing and preparing for our trip to Sydney. I get terrible travel stress. Until I am actually on the plane, I am very nervous that something will go wrong, be it missing my flight or forgetting all my underwear. I suppose it is because I don't travel all that often and therefore feel certain to screw something up.

In any case, rather than take care of all my business, I went to three separate music shows; Manu Chau at the Greek on Friday, Soul of Man at Mighty on Saturday, and Amos Lee at the Indie on Sunday. For some reason, rather than calming my nerves by completing everything on my list, I tend to push the envelope and squeeze in lots of fun as well.

Monica bought the Manu Chau tickets and invited Shannon and Michael along as well. Shannon and Monica had both traveled in South America, and Manu Chau's music was a nostalgic part of both their trips. I was especially impressed, however, by his opening act, Kinky. Kinky is a band from Monterey, Mexico that seems to have concocted the best fusion I have heard so far between live rock and electronic music. It was very dancable and reminded me of The Mutaytor, Latin style. I am now offically a fan.

I had noticed earlier in the week that Soul of Man was playing at Mighty, but resolved to stay home to be responsible and pack and work on bills. It only took one phone call from someone else itching to go see music, and of course I ended up going. I wasn't disappointed. I had heard of Soul of Man during the Love Parade this year. I wanted to go and see them but they were playing too late-night for me, like 5am or something crazy. I had gone on to the website of their record label, Fingerlickin' and was delighted with the funky breaks they had, and bought a few tracks online. I have to say that the live set wasn't exactly what I expected, but the crowd that night was gleeful and getting down in a big way, so a great time was had by all. We'd been "licked"!

By Sunday, I was wondering what I was thinking by getting tickets for that night's Amos Lee show at the Independent. I had heard a couple of tracks I liked but wasn't a huge fan or anything, so now the show sort of felt obligatory.

When we got there, I was surprised to see the place packed to capacity while the opener, Mutlu, was still playing. That level of crowd anticipation is even unusual on a weekend night, much less a Sunday. We struggled to figure out what the huge attraction was. As soon as Amos Lee came on, we found out. From note one, he put on a captivating set of music that was flawlessly executed and seemingly effortless. I kept being reminded of many great musicians while he played. While he sang, I heard Jim Croce, Paul Simon, Ray Charles, Bonnie Raitt, Randy Newman, and others. It's like they were all bouncing around inside him. This constant recognition became distracting, reminding me that I wasn't seeing a lot of originality. However, I was so enthralled with the musicality of the performance, that it didn't seem to matter that only one or two songs sounded fresh and new.

I couldn't help feeling like I was at an important show. I also couldn't help feeling like he came off very self important. When speaking, he was very curt and seemed insincere. I think the audience was actually put off by his intense demeanor. Maybe he fancies himself as mysterious. I think if he lightens up a bit, he might actually become somebody.

Just kidding, Amos.

Elan

I'm not really a Reggae guy.

However, I read a review of a singer, Elan Atias, another young Jewish Reggae singer who previously toured with The Wailers as the voice of Bob Marley. That piqued my interest enough to have a listen. And, sure enough, he had a lovely, silky voice. Very easy on the ears.

As luck would have it, he was playing at The Indie, opening for another group, The B-Side Players. His set was scheduled for 9:30, so we went down earlier than we normally would for a Friday night show.

I expected a room full of Rasta hippies and an Irie smoky room. Unfortunately, as I should have expected, the place was almost completely empty. People don't really show up to that place until 10:30 or 11:00 normally. Apparently his arrival was not highly anticipated.

He proceeded to put on a show that would easily play to a giant stadium of cheering Bob lovers. It felt extremely awkward and uncomfortable, to me at least, that he was actually playing to about four Marina girls shimmying and stirring their cocktails. I felt bad for Elan and embarrassed for San Francisco. I'm sure he expected a larger crowd with a different demographic. The crowd eventually thickened somewhat by the end of his set and so at least a few more folks got to hear him. But ultimately, it felt like a waste of a great show to me. I couldn't help thinking to myself, "I think Reggae is officially dead."

I happened to notice that he was wearing an Ocean Pacific khaki jacket on stage. I felt a great sense of irony since his outfit seemed to scream out "I'm a communist!" - very Fidel Castro. So the small, faint OP logo struck me. I thought maybe we weren't supposed to see that.

Then yesterday, I picked up a copy of my favorite music magazine, URB, and guess who was inside the front cover in a two page Ocean Pacific spread. None other than our friend Elan.

I suppose we all have to make those tough career choices. It just seems so non-authentic for a communist-dressing Reggae singer to be sponsored by a big corporate clothing company. I know that the music should be independent of politics. I should be able to compartmentalize the two. But something about seeing that ad made me laugh out loud.

I still think his music is pleasant, and I'll keep listening. But my general admiration, I'd have to say, has faded.

Whobar

I launched a new web site this weekend. It's called whobar.net. I felt the need to learn about using Google's mapping API. The tools they have made available for free public use are so powerful, I feel I would be a fool not to take advantage. However, these things always require a bit of a learning curve.

I generally like to marry my learning experiences to something at least potentially useful to other people. I thought about what kind of maps I could build that would be new and different.

I decided to collect reports from individuals about the cell phone signal strength they are experiencing at any given address around the (Google-enabled) globe. Then I could plot color coded points on a map showing visually how strong the signal was from different mobile carriers.

"Can you hear me now?"

It won't be too useful to anyone until there are a lot of points plotted on the map, which means thousands of people will have to be kind enough to report their signal strength without getting anything meaningful in return.

Who knows if this will happen, but at least now the world has the opportunity to make it happen.

Whobar!

Celebrity

Last night I had a celebrity close encounter.

I got word that Bjork was in town with her boyfriend Matthew Barney who had an exhibit opening at SFMOMA. Rumor was, she was planning to DJ at Stud Bar later that night. I said "Sure, sure she is." A group of friends planned to camp out down there that evening just in case it was true.

I was out with a buddy when Monica called and said the rumor appeared to be gaining wide acceptance and the place was filling up... and that I should come down if for no other reason than it was a fun crowd. I had never been to the Stud Bar, since I always thought of it as a gay bar and thought I might feel out of place. My friend felt the same way and was somewhat reluctant to attend for that reason. But due to my policy of "lean yes" when on the fence about something potentially fun, I decided to check it out.

As we walked down the street toward the bar, I could hear the sound of a brass band coming from that very direction... then heard their sound muffle as if they went indoors. This was a good sign. I thought it might be the Extra Action Marching Band who often seem to be surrounded by cool goings on. I was right. They had gone into the crowded bar just ahead of us, and we were treated to a loud and already surreal display.

This bar was clearly not prepared for the onslaught of rumor-believers they had already received. There was one poor bartender drowning in drink requests, where on a busy night, the size of the place would call for at least three or four of them plus bar back help. I waited patiently for a drink. And while I was waiting, a parade of folks, hand in hand in a long single file chain, scurried along behind the bar toward the DJ booth. And sure enough, a colorfully-caped Bjork was mid-chain.

The entourage happened to settle right where my friends were parked. When I made my way that direction, they all looked like deer in the headlights, not really sure what to do or say in the presence of a celebrity. But what can you say that wouldn't sound dumb?

Quickly, the normally jaded artsy San Francisco crowd degraded into a sea of star struck paparazzi. Camera phones were shoved in her face from every direction and people pushed to get as close to her as possible. I was kind of stuck between her and the crowd and decided to help create a casual barrier rather than steer clear. She didn't seem super appreciative, but I was impressed that she toughed it out and didn't seem too phased by it all.

I stayed just long enough to hear what music she played. It was kind of hard to tell who was DJ'ing at any given moment, but after awhile it seemed more like a crowd full of people trying to catch a glimpse rather than a dance club with a great guest DJ.

So I went home, somewhat more appreciative of my anonymity. I'm glad I can go out and have fun without the mob scene her and others have to deal with regularly.

Fast

I fasted this past weekend for the first time ever.

Monica had a book called The Idiot's Guide to Fasting. When I saw the title, I couldn't contain my laughter. Why on earth would I need a whole book to tell me how to not put food in my mouth!

She assured me that there was more to it than I thought. So I read through some of the book and was intrigued by the process and the benefits the book claimed fasting could have.

Previously I always assumed that fasting was mainly done for spiritual, weight loss, or body cleansing reasons.

My "Eureka" moment while reading was the book's explanation of how much energy one's body uses in the digestion of food. Besides the above benefits, while fasting, your body can use the energy not used for digestion and focus it on other aspects of existence, such as mental clarity and healing itself of chronic ailments.

I thought about the Thanksgiving food coma we all know and dread. That is an easy example of how much energy is used up just digesting food. It made sense that there could indeed be real benefits to it. It occurred to me that in over 13,000 days on Earth, my body has never experienced even one day without eating solid food.

So I resolved to try it. Just one or two days to start. And then maybe with some regularity if it worked out.

It wasn't all that easy. I am certainly not accustomed to depriving myself that way. During moments when I had something to focus my attention on like cleaning the house or shopping, it wasn't too bad as long as I kept on drinking water or juice. No big crashes or suffering. It was true that after the first day, food seemed less urgent. I definitely looked forward to my first meal on Sunday, but didn't act like a crazy starving person while eating, and ate very light the rest of the day.

Today, I do seem to have more energy and clarity than usual, especially considering my regular Sunday night activities at The Buccaneer pub.

All in all, I'd say it's worth making an attempt at incorporating some form of this practice into my regular routine, even it's a big less self-deprived. It clearly seems to be a good idea from a self discipline and re-charging standpoint.

Mosh

It's not every day that you get to experience something for the first time.

Saturday night I went to a show at the Elbo Room to see a friend of a friend's band. I didn't know anything about it but heard that "sometimes things can get a bit crazy." I didn't really bother to ponder what that could mean, but went mainly to see my friends.

Once I got there, it didn't take long to surmise that I was attending a punk rock show. Normally when I come to that realization, I leave. The rage and negativity of punk rock has never really appealed to me, not to mention the noise. But this was a friend's band, so I stuck it out. As far as the noise and rage on stage, I wasn't disappointed. Three of the band members shrieked into their microphones just as someone might do if they were dipped into molten lava. No words, just screams. I stood there looking around at people's faces to see who was into it and who might be laughing. Most seemed interested and focused.

After awhile, some audience members started to become animated and physical, and it wasn't long before some people were throwing their bodies into other audience members in an attempt to get things a little rowdier. The crowd didn't seem to mind the bumps and elbows. If someone banged into them, they'd simply push them toward someone else and get back to watching the display.

I was interested neither in being pushed nor in pushing back. In fact, I was a little bit nervous for my own safety, so little by little I inched my way backward, away from the stage. I even considered leaving the area altogether and waiting the show out.

After the band finished and a short intermission passed, the headliner, Flipper, came on. Their music was a bit easier to listen to, and soon the crowd got physical again.

By this time, however, I had the pleasure of a couple more cocktails and was feeling a bit rambunctious myself. For some reason (alcohol), this time, rather than being intimidated by the crowd, it looked a bit like fun. I casually handed Monica my drink and said, "I'm going in."

In front of the stage, there was a seven foot circle of clear floor where bodies bounced back and forth pushing each other around like pinballs. I ran straight in and pushed the first person I saw. The rest was a blur. I threw shoulders into people who promptly pushed me across the room toward someone else, who generally did the same.

Never did I ever feel like anyone was angry or violent about it. I was in Rome acting like a Roman. After a few minutes of that, I emerged from the pit grinning from ear to ear. It truly felt like a life experience that hadn't been checked off the list for far too long.

I can't say that I'll be seeking out punk shows and looking for mosh pits any time soon. But I was super glad I jumped in.

Woo hoo!

Epic

Yesterday was an epic day.

This winter season has been disappointing up until this past two weeks. Although there has been snowfall, the temperatures have been far above normal. I wonder if it's related to the same reasons we had so many hurricanes last year. For whatever reasons, the snow quality has been relatively weak for us snowboarders and skiers.

I have managed to have some very good days this season, but only by watching weather and getting to the snow as soon as it falls. Invariably within a day or two, the weather would warm up to the 40's or even higher and the snow would begin to melt away.

I was beginning to think the whole season would be that way. Then March came and, so far, things have been looking up. The past two weeks have seen four to five feet of new snow and cold weather. Three of those feet fell yesterday and the day before.

We knew the storm was coming and planned a trip to Kirkwood, which requires planning because it is not near our cabin and we had to bring our equipment back home last week in order to make the trip. Over the course of the week, the weather reports showed good potential, but conflicted about exactly when and how much even up to our departure time.

We decided to drive into the beast, not really knowing how bad the weather would be. We got to Jackson at the foothills of the mountain at about 7 am, and it was already snowing heavily in this little town that clearly wasn't used to getting any snow. This would be about a 90 minute drive up the mountain with clear roads, but these roads weren't clear. As we took the final turn out of Jackson to head up the highway, a CHP officer was only 3 cars ahead of us. He turned on his roof lights and slowed down. I thought to myself, "Oh no, please don't." But he did. Just then he pulled his car across the lanes, blocking the traffic. He got out and shook his head at us and pointed us to turn around. I asked if he was closing the highway and his words were, "we're losing too many cars up there." Wow.

So uncertain whether he had just saved our skins or ruined our day, we pulled out the map. The only other way to Kirkwood was to get to Highway 50 (somehow) and go through South Lake Tahoe, a several hour detour. It was a crushing blow.

Determined, we decided to take Highway 49, an unfamiliar road, to try and make the detour. Mind you, the road was essentially empty and covered in snow. Unfortunately, the road also made many turns and changed street names along the way. Even more unfortunately, the signs were often illegible because of the snow cover.

After driving through a most beautiful winter scene for maybe an hour, it became clear that a) we were supposed to have met our other highway by that distance and b) the road we were on didn't have any tire tracks on it besides ours. We flagged down a passer by (the opposite direction did have some tracks) and I asked him how to get to Highway 50. He said, "You should take Highway 49". Which gave way to my very own favorite quote of the day. "This isn't Highway 49?".

Luckily we weren't too far off course and did manage to get to Highway 50 which Caltrans' hotline was reporting as "escorted by Highway Patrol only." Things seemed bleak, but we thought as long as we were there, we should keep trying.

We met Highway 50 in Placerville. In the first two miles, we saw four cars that had bit the dust off the side of the Highway, some of them flipped over. I noted importantly, that many were even four wheel drive vehicles, like mine.

We inched our way up the mountain, often as slow as 10 miles per hour.

As we made our way to the top, we considered stopping at the Sierra ski resort since we knew we'd get more time on the mountain that way. But the prospect of the much superior terrain at Kirkwood kept us moving forward even not knowing the further delays we might find. We were enduring this all to have the epic day. Not the consolation day.

We made it to Kirkwood around noon and the weather settled down a bit.

We got our epic day in the three new feet of snow; the day those safe at sea level could only dream of.

After getting to the summit and bombing down some of the most amazing terrain ever, we really felt like we had given mother nature a run for her money.

Despite the delays and challenges, we felt like we had succeeded in our mission.

Epic.

Art

Holy crap. Yesterday evening was so jam packed with art I can hardly believe it.

After work was the monthly First Thursday art event in the city where many galleries are open to the public after hours to come see their exhibits for free, without appointment. And the public generally does - in droves. It's quite a scene. Lots of young artistic types, mixed with schmoozy money types go to pretend they know what they're looking at and run into people they know or pick up on someone new. Always a good investment in claustrophobia.

After that, we had some tickets to see Loop!Station at The Independent. The venue regularly has one or more opening acts of varying interestingness, and the headliner rarely comes on before 10. Very often I skip the opener and save my legs for the main event. But sometimes the openers are worth seeing.

Monica said she wanted to check out the first opener, Tim Bluhm, who sang with a group she used to like called the Mother Hips... so we got there early. They had set up jazz club-type tables on the floor that night, and we got one right up front.

Tim Bluhm came out and sat down in a chair with his guitar and set down an extremely engaging set of melodic, patient, deliberate songs that made a new fan out of me instantly. It was one of those rare times when it doesn't feel like a performance, but like sharing. He seemed very appreciative to be there playing songs for us. It made me curious about his past since he seemed like a person who had recently gained some kind of profound perspective. Or maybe he's just like that.

After Tim, some avant guarde film was shown with various random artsy images which I thought was somehow linked to the music set the guest DJ was playing between sets. But then the next band, Broun Fillinis, came out and stood on stage in front of the projection screen. We thought maybe they were annoyed that the film was still playing while they were on stage, but then they started their set, and it became clear that film was part of the show.

These guys' music was the exact opposite of Tim Bluhm. The patient melodies gave way to a new groove. One with greater tempo, and determined ambition in its complexity. The sax player mainly played straight ahead bop freak-out solos while the bass and drummer played hard-driving funk-rock grooves behind him. The interesting thing was that the songs seemed to boil down to a surf rock genre in my mind, which was reinforced by the lighting and projected art film going on during the show. All three musicians were impressively outfitted with chops and onstage effects equipment. I enjoyed the vibe they generated.

By the time Loop!Station came on, it was about midnight and we were pretty tired, but they were worth the wait. I had seen the singer, Robin Coomer, twice before in other groups, and she told me about Loop!Station after one of those performances while I was, no doubt, gushing to her about her singing. This group is difficult to describe. It's one of those things you definitely have to witness in person. But basically, it's her and a great cellist named Sam Bass who have written songs specifically to have their parts digitally sampled while performed live on stage and then played back as background parts later during the same song. So the cello will, at times, have several parts playing at once, maybe some plucked, some bowed, some with distortion effects, etc. The singer will also sample parts and then sing along with them in beautiful, haunting harmony. Combine all of this with the fact they are both easy on the eyes, she has a great stage presence, a great atmosphere and audience, and the film guys from the other group continuing their spooky lighting and images... and it made for a spectacular evening of art.

I really felt that these two were really pushing the boundaries of music right before our eyes. I wondered if we would see more music like this in the future... if all great musicians in the future will be expected to master technology this way in order to gain respect.

Just another day when I felt so happy to be where I was, when I was there.