Poo-Tossers and Monkey Pirates

"So how many monkeys would it take before you stopped caring? That's not a rhetorical question. We actually know the number."

Another gem found thru Running the Voodoo Down…

This brilliant little piece of satire certainty made an impression on my monkey brain. “What is the Monkeysphere?” somehow manages to identify the root of disharmony in our society, why it is what it is, and what can be done about, in two seriously funny pages of text. I wonder what it says about my intellectual prowess - that I find writing like this to be as profound and thought provoking as anything by Nietzsche, Kierkegaard, or Dr. Phil?

Snippets don't do it justice. It’s the first time I’ve read anything by David Wong (at Cracked.com). More please…

Bitter Thruth and the Glory of Release

Don't ask me what that title means, I'm working stream of consciousness here.

Andrew Wilshusen isn't afraid to say what's on his mind. Sometimes the truth ain't pretty. Here's an excerpt from a recent post that discusses some of the negative sides of performance.

Performing by drumming in public is a pain in the ass that only fellow musicians can understand. First, you have to convince a venue to let you play there. Then you have to try to coordinate a time and place to get other musicians together to practice. Then you have to hope a miracle happens and that those musicians show up in time to make use of practice, as musicians are seemingly always running late. Unless the practice is taking place at my home, I have to get to the practice space, which requires: packing up my drums; loading them in my car; driving to the place; unloading my drums; setting up; waiting for everyone else to show up, set their stuff up and probably stop drinking and/or smoking weed; practicing; tearing down my drums; loading them in the car; driving home and unloading my car. This all must be repeated for every practice as well as the gig itself. I’ve driven to venues up to 6 hours away on several occasions, and have had to haul my drums ¼ mile to get them to and from the gig. At the gig itself: the room generally sounds horrible and is filled with smoke; the soundman, if any, usually has no idea what they’re doing; you almost never get paid enough to cover the gas it cost to get there; if there is any audience (usually limited to the bartender and the other bands playing that night, although they often show up late for their set and leave immediately afterward. Not to mention they often are unbearable to listen to…), most seem to not care about what you’re doing whatsoever which really makes one ponder why waste all this time doing it. After the gig, you have to listen to everyone’s bullshit opinions (usually consisting of them lying to your face) about your music, which is probably the worst part of it all as far as I’m concerned.

I hope he doesn't mind that I posted this. It struck a chord with me. I can't say that I've never felt bitter, hurt or annoyed. This thing known as artistic expression has a lot of appendages. Sometimes spitting it out, and letting the duck be a duck (so to speak) is the only thing to do.

For those who don't know, Andrew is also an accomplished improv drummer. Check out this solo where he only uses a ride cymbal and his hands.

Back to the Music

Via Casa Valdez, more sharing, more music... You Are What You Hear. File it under Jazz. Pass it on...