A New Day at Midnight, A New Cat at Dusk

I've decided that she is my outdoor cat. Her name is Anew, because: (1.) David Gray has a great song called "A New Day at Midnight," and (2.) Midnight is a very common name for black cats. When I first moved in to my new, downtown Phoenix condo, this black cat ran in while my hands were too full to stop her, like she owned the place. She comes around every time I get home from work, so I've decided to feed her and dub her my outdoor cat. The other neighborhood cats are jealous, but I think they understand. It's a territorial thing. It's a dibs thing. Also, I've always wanted a black cat. When my first cat, Amazo, stops hissing at her through the window, I might let Anew in again. Sure, black cats are supposed to bring bad luck . . . but what if bad luck was there first, and you treat it right? Can you turn bad luck around by realizing your just a guest in its house?

*****

The Karaoke Chronicles: T.O.I.L. I was excited to discover recently that Hazelwood's First Place Bar & Grill has a very decent selection of David Gray songs ("Babylon" is usually the only one to be found), so I signed up to sing "The One I Love." When David includes this song on concert song lists, it's abbreviated "T.O.I.L.," which I think is an ironic way to describe the one you love, but you can't find the alphabet, plain and simple.

You also can't fight a large lady on her fifty-third birthday. Hazelwood's has a Celebrity Room apart from the main bar, and I like to sing to the folks that think they may be safe from the karaoke. In this case, when they saw the title of the song, they were more than eager to have me dance for their birthday girl. They didn't suspect the gravity of the song, and honestly I didn't let it stop me from simulating a lap dance, to the best of my ability. So, I was singing lines like, "I'm leaking life faster than I'm leaking blood," while this rather large woman slapped my butt and pulled me onto her lap. I sang, "Don't see Elysium, don't see no fiery hell" when my head was in her chest. Well, I guess David got that right.

So, "The One I Love" is a song of juxtapositions. I'm really not surprised.

*****

GB: The Pitch Internet rumors have long circulated about a third Ghostbusters film. I have a better idea. GB:NY. Hear me out.

GB:NY is an hour long comedy/drama featuring a new branch of the Ghostbusters in New York, with aspirations for nationwide franchising (i.e. GB: Chicago, GB: LA, etc.). GB:NY would feature a different aspect of ghost-busting, since the use of nuclear accelerators on one's back is prohibited in a post 9/11 New York; now, the Ghostbusters have to find and isolate the specter by figuring out why it hasn't passed into the afterlife. (This would save a network quite a bit on its SFX budget.) Each episode is a mystery, with an opening teaser that features regular folks discovering a haunting (like the old, "Hey, is that a body?" motif in the Law & Order series), followed by an investigation that plays like the library and sewer scenes in Ghostbusters I and II, respectively. Of course, the Ghostbusters still trap and contain ghosts, much to the EPA's chagrin, establishing an ongoing civil subplot. An ongoing series allows writers the chance to fully explore and exploit the hilarity of the genre, like Venkman did, but also integrate some of Winston's smoldering spiritual curiosity. Further, shot with a handicam like The Office, with the CSI plot unfurling formula, GB:NY could combine the most successful motifs on television today with one of the most beloved film franchises of all time.

So . . . who are ya gonna call?

Birthday Becomes Eclectic

On my birthday, a new David Gray performance was posted by the Morning Becomes Eclectic radio show on KCRW. It's a great set, and I recommend listening or watching it in their archives, found here. Did I mention it came out on my birthday? What a great gift from the world, and one of its greatest musicians.

KaraokeFanboy Weekly #1: The "What Are You Running From?" Issue

Following "KaraokeFanboy 202," I've decided to attempt a weekly newsletter compiling my week's worth of napkin scribbling and cell phone photography, with the occasional drawing or YouTube link tossed in for good measure. The hope is to collect things that have inspired thought and add a little something to them to further the creative process. Sometimes, like this week, they'll share a theme. We'll see how it goes, and if I actually write more than.

*****

KaraokeFanboy Weekly vol. 1, no. 1: The "What Are You Running From?" Issue

*****

First of all, since I moved back to Arizona, I've discovered slam poetry. I've been writing poetry for a long time, and I've had the honor of featuring a few times in Orange County, but the realm of slam is a bit different. It's competitive -- and frankly reminds me a bit of my high school speech and debate, but fortunately the Phoenix area is dense with immense talent, stripping away the awkwardness of that association and challenging my writing to evolve. I've been trying to write more topical pieces; I wrote and read this one just yesterday, an elaboration on a poem I wrote for National Poetry Month. Transcribing it from scratch paper makes it official:

The Greatest Storytellers of Our Time

Forget the poets.
Their nouns are too proper for the common man;
their verbs aren't helping anyone anymore.

Forget the novelists, too.
They're too thick to think of the little things.

Forget the musicians, the movie makers, even the ministers --
they keep telling the same tired tall tales.
If history really repeats itself,
researchers can pinpoint precisely when the circle stops and starts again
by the way these stories rerun.

Skip class.
Your professor has nothing new to say.
His syllabus is just academia's answer to intellectual recycling,
if only he didn't waste the paper.

You really want to learn something?
Gather, ye, at the feet of the adulterer, the cheat.
These are the greatest storytellers of our time.
These, who invest in story like their bonds were at stake;
these, who digest the story, their bread and butter,
but not for a publisher's sake.
They don't sweat over submissions, creators' rights infringements,
The New York Times Best Sellers' list, pop radio top 40 hits --
they're just redefining what "is" is.
(Remember that line?)

The story is the perfect accomplice,
the where-have-you-been,
the, "Tiger, did you learn anything?"
Their story's only ambition is to be the custodian of the status quo,
sweeping their secrets under the carpet so their loved ones never know.

Theirs aren't t he adventures over Reading Rainbow.
When Joseph Campbell wrote of the hard-travelling hero,
he dreamt of stormy seas, Odysseus, Ahab --
he never considered paparazzi, tabloids, sex addition rehab,
but, Great Storyteller, don't apologise for your disgraced celebrity!
That plot device we couldn't see coming, your tarnished integrity,
man, we revel in those twists!
Our faith in you, the hapless victim!
Like Kaiser Sose losing his limp,
like Luke's father slapping him on the wrist,
we're hanging on every word!

Adulterer, cheater, with this, the sermon of your mount,
we're moved by your words,
we feel the spirit --
welifhlakjwehiwiumcnalweoiah!

Oh, I wasn't speaking in tongues.
That's just what my fist typed when it pounded the keyboard.
Even wanton outbursts of raw emotion have something to say,
and sometimes it doesn't make sense.
Great storyteller, I'm finally speaking your language.

So forget the ministers, their holy fables,
and the music makers, their record labels.
Forget the novelists, with their tiding endings.
Forget rhyme and reason.

Forget the poets.

*****

With another new album on the horizon in less than a year, David Gray continues to prove himself my favorite singer/songwriter. Further, I'm officially dubbed the release from his last album, Draw the Line, called "Fugitive," my favorite song. Dave Matthews Band's "Warehouse," held that distinction for a long time, since it's first lines captured a reverence for youth as the foundation for a progressive adulthood: "Hey, restless mind/Don't throw away your playful beginnings." Interestingly, "Fugitive" takes it a step further, as Gray asks, "Is the answer none of the above/Crouched in a hole like a mud-streaked fugitive?" I need some time to understand his analogy, but it makes sense to me now; life often offers us a distinct list of options, and sometimes none of them are what we envisioned for the future. This dissatisfied side of ourselves can only run, like a fugitive from his bonds, for coveted freedom. On top of that vivid lesson, the video for "Fugitive" has some great artwork -- also symbolic of life's endless possibilities, perhaps?



*****

Below: Poster montage on 20th Street and Washington in Phoenix. The voices are getting louder, the fists, more tightly clenched -- on both sides of the argument. I've had a few revelations about the immigration debate lately, mainly, that I lock my door at night. Every night. And I know I'm not the only one. I'm willing to wager that the folks that pasted up these posters do, too. However, if my deadbolt broke, I was too lazy to fix it, and my neighbors decided to stroll in and help themselves to my stuff, I couldn't blame them. Despite the law that demands they resist that urge, my laziness toward the lock was the real problem. Besides, I have some awesome stuff! Who wouldn't want some of it? Now, if my neighbors were completely happy with what they had in their place, maybe they wouldn't peep into my apartment at all, or if they did, we could invite one another over freely. Honestly, that's the real issue, but it's too daunting to address . . . or, as these posters spread, we're too afraid to behold what we may yet become.



*****

Finally, today is the first full day in Arizona without speed cameras in a long time. Speed Cameron mourns his fallen brethren today. Wait, who's Speed Cameron, you ask? Well, click here to find out!

My legs are tired.
Russ, a.k.a. KaraokeFanboy

My Man-Crushes Manifest: David Gray & Craig Ferguson Live!

UPDATE: David Gray appeared on Craig Ferguson's show Friday, November 20! Regarding David's English heritage, Craig said he's "one of the good ones." I love it! Check out the video, then read on about my week with these two man-crushes o' mine!





Back on September 22, I celebrated the release of David Gray's latest album Draw the Line and Craig Ferguson's autobiography American On Purpose: The Improbable Adventures of an Unlikely Patriot by dubbing both men my latest man-crushes. Well, if you thought I was excited that day, imagine the heights of my fanboy ecstasy as I saw both of them live this week! Yes, I had the pleasure of attending David Gray's concert at Los Angeles' Orpheum Theater on Monday, and, with Veterans' Day off from work, I seized the rare available weekday to reserve tickets for a taping of The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson. Both opportunities offered a sense of comprehensive appreciation for these guys' work, and of unexpected fulfillment for liking them so much in the first place.



The David Gray concert on Monday, November 9, was sold out, but I acquired my ticket through a Craigslist contact that opted for the impromptu Band of Horses show that night instead. (Thanks again, Erykah!) My friend Jennie joined me, and we waited in line and enjoyed the swanky digs of the Orpheum before Gray's opening act, Lisa Hannigan, took the stage. Lisa reminded me of a more eclectic Dolores O'Riordan (from the Cranberries), as she played a variety of stringed instruments and closed her set with a rockin' cover of Depeche Mode's "Personal Jesus." Fortunately, it wasn't long after that my evening's savior took the stage . . .



. . . and I was pleased that Gray started his set with "First Chance," since I'm a sucker for wordplay. Amazingly, he found just the right balance between new material and the hits his fans would want to hear -- though thanks to my listening to Draw the Line several times a week already, I'm a fan of it all. Highlights included an extended ending to "Nemesis," which Gray introduced as a very personal tune, a simple yet poignantly effective light show to "Slow Motion," and a stripped down version of "Ain't No Love," which kicked off his shorter encore set and admittedly brought tears to my eyes. Hey, it ain't called a man-crush for nothin', okay?! In the end, we heard all of the songs that have achieved radio play in the past few years, and over half of the new album -- but, of course, I was left wanting more. Leave it to a master performer like David Gray to know when to draw the line.



On Wednesday, my friend and coworker Konrad and I left Orange County around 1:30 p.m. to get to Craig Ferguson's 3:30 p.m. taping, and after navigating the labyrinth of one-way streets and full parking lots around the CBS Studios in Hollywood, we managed to get in the end of the line just in time to make the cut of 108 attendees. (I don't know if anyone was cut, but that sounds pretty dramatic, right?) The audience warm-up guy, Chunky B, joined us downstairs before we entered the studio, and amusingly talked about the importance of Veterans' Day, how he needed us to help Craig, a proactive American citizen, make dynamic television that night. As he put it, we weren't watching TV -- that afternoon, we were TV. Surely not as important as military service, but I took the responsibility pretty seriously . . .

. . . and by seriously, I mean not seriously at all, as we were frequently encouraged to laugh loudly, even if Chunky's jokes weren't that funny. Konrad commented on the awkwardness of being demanded to have a good time, and I agree that it's ironic, but, hey, that's show business, baby. Eventually, Craig came out to deliver his monologue, which included commentary about Polish Independence Day and the recent inductees into the Toy Hall of Fame. Now, I'm both Polish and an avid toy collector, so I could think of few other monologues that could've been more perfect for me to witness in person. After the monologue, and then in between tapings for segments, Craig talked to the audience as a whole, and while he offered no chance to get an autograph, he was nevertheless charming and sincere. Indeed, he was a gracious host in every sense of the word.

So, two man-crushes in one week. Only in Los Angeles, eh? Both experiences were unique yet united by my unadulterated excitement at the chance to see these masters of their respective crafts in person, if only as part of a larger audience. Perhaps that's the best way to do it -- to experience these shows in the midst of others that might feel the same way. Vindication isn't too far a leap from the realm of entertainment, right? Further, and finally, the chance to see them live, to catch any flaws or vulnerabilities in their performances, only makes their significance as male role models that much more poignant. After all, what better evidence is there than a peek behind the scenes to prove that their work is worthy of getting under my skin?

My Man-Crushes 2009: David Gray & Craig Ferguson Double Feature!

Today, Tuesday, September 22, is a special day for four distinct reasons: (1.) It's the first day of autumn, though one wouldn't know it from summer's tenacious grip on southern California, (2.) my birthday is exactly three months away, (3.) David Gray's new album, Draw the Line, comes out today, and (4.) so does Craig Ferguson's new book, American on Purpose: The Improbable Adventures of an Unlikely Patriot. Interestingly, I had already planned on dubbing both Gray and Ferguson current man-crushes, so to celebrate their latest contributions to pop culture I offer a man-crush double feature!

David Gray

Contemporary Influence: David Gray had been making music long before his single "Babylon" achieved regular radio play, but that hit single put Gray on the map -- and rightfully so, as "Babylon" betrays the introspection, urban plight, and clever word play that infuses many of Gray's best songs. Although few other singles of his have enjoyed as much American air play, Gray's songs have been used frequently in film and on television; recently, I heard "As I'm Leaving" playing during a promo for William Peterson's final episode of CSI. That track was from Gray's Lost Songs album, released in the States after "Babylon" and White Ladder started making serious waves. If even a lost song can get that kind of attention, who knows what David might accomplish when the world finally finds what he's capable of?

Practical Knowledge of the Opposite Sex: While most mainstream musicians boast knowledge of the opposite sex by way of the love ballad, David Gray is bold enough to lyrically document the hard times, too. Consider the lines: "And honey please don't stop your talking/'Cos there's a feeling won't leave me alone/What we gonna do when the money runs out/I wish that there was something left to say/How we gonna find the eyes to see/a brighter day?" If women like their men to emote, it doesn't get more emotional than that -- but in a definitively masculine way, mind you, as nothing frustrates a man more than a lack of tangible solutions. Thankfully, despite his name, Gray is one to pay less attention to the dark cloud and more its silver lining, as he proclaims, "Tell the repo man/And the stars above/That you're the one I love." In other words, no matter what this world may take away, there's no ceiling to true love. Even fools know that this what women want to hear, but only a David Gray can put it so eloquently.

Global Significance: Did you know that White Ladder is still the best selling album of all time in Ireland? Yes, the same way we Americans love Michael Jackson's Thriller or Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon, the Irish love White Ladder (which may explain my affinity for it, as well). More so than that, as I mentioned earlier, Gray's ongoing themes are a bit more transcendent than your usual top 40s fare, and I submit for your consideration this live version of "Ain't No Love," my favorite of his songs. In three short verses, Gray muses about urban life, creativity, love, and religion, all in an introspective attempt to explain his direction (or lack thereof?) in life. Who can't relate to that?



Moved? Now, if you act fast, you may be able to acquire David's latest single, "Fugitive," at Starbucks for free via their free iTunes Pick of the Week!

Craig Ferguson

Contemporary Influence: I love late night television, and when done properly I believe it can be both a humorously seasoned synopsis of any given day and a timeless piece of pop culture entertainment. Every weeknight, Craig Ferguson embraces this opportunity wholeheartedly, balancing vaudevillian comedy via puppets and impromptu self-deprivation with relevant expositions on current events, like his recent rant about Congressman Joe Wilson's calling President Obama a liar. Consider this introduction from his September 11th episode, which combines these two elements in a virtual politically puppeted cartoon!



As an aside, Craig shamefully mentions in his book that the Monkees' Headquarters album was the first vinyl he ever owned, and it's the one I have signed by three out of four Monkees themselves! It doesn't get any more personal than that!

A Practical Understanding of the Opposite Sex: As I said, Craig's new autobiography dropped today, and as a celebrity boasting the addictions of his past in the same context as his bid for American citizenship, he probably could've appeared on any talk show to promote his book. So, where did he show up this morning? The View. Yes, his Scottish accent wooed the ladies of The View, and their natural feelings-oriented line of questioning was the perfect forum for Craig to express his former weaknesses and future career hopes and speculations. In other words, even in light of his latest success, Craig put the ladies first -- and in the morning, to boot!

Global Significance: From what I understand, Craig is a Scotsman that came to the United States in a drunken, drug-addled stupor in a mad quest for fame and celebrity -- and he eventually found it by shamelessly shedding his vices. He's often spoke of his first trip to America with his father, to New York, of course, where he vowed to return one day. This is the American dream for so many folks around the world -- that the U.S. is a land of first and second chances -- and we naturally born citizens take that for granted. That Craig takes any opportunity to share his joy at being American, from speaking at the President's White House Correspondence Dinner last year to nightly on CBS, proves he is a true patriot, indeed. Just look up his latest tattoo if you need any more proof!

There you have it: two more Europeans on my list of man-crushes (Gordon Ramsey being the first, of course). I'm grateful they're so eager to come to the U.S. and share their talent, but where are the American-bred icons? Is reality television so saturating the potential for homemade heroes that I must look overseas for masculine role models? Time will tell . . .

Alibi

This has quickly become one of my favorite music vidoes, and perhaps hints at who my next man-crush will be . . .

Unwrapping the Rhapsody, part 2: This Musical Life

A co-worker is currently graciously sharing his free trial of Rhapsody with me, a program he described as Microsoft's iTunes, which is about as much as I know about tracking down music on-line. At the risk of incriminating myself of cyber-crimes, I'm one of an admitted many that have participating in file sharing to acquire his music, but to my credit I usually only indulge in downloading tracks I've already purchased in the past, on albums I've either lost of damaged. I'm actually pretty narrow-minded when it comes to music; I still like what I've always liked, and I struggle to integrate new material into my daily playlist. So I've wondered what to do with Rhapsody, with this preciously time-sensitive all-access pass to the entire spectrum of music as we know it!

I wholeheartedly embrace my personal eras in musical taste, though some would say distaste, as I proudly pledge allegiance to bands and musicians definitively out of style. For example, I grew up on the Monkees, period. Some still debate their validity as a band, including Micky Dolenz himself, who, in his introduction on CMT's Gone Country, said he played the drummer on a television show, despite their tours as a band and his legitimate talent! While my friends embraced MC Hammer and Vanilla Ice, I transitioned into the likes of Bryan Adams, Sheryl Crow, and the Crash Test Dummies, when they were still dubbed rock 'n roll. Yes, today's adult contemporary was yesterday's rock 'n roll, in those last gasp years before "alternative," "punk," and "emo"* became the rebel genres of choice. A friend introduced me to Face to Face, and their self-righteousness struck a chord with me (heh) that both matched and transcended their thrashing pace -- so they remain my one and only alternative/punk favorite from those wayward early '90s.

(*I just recently heard of the "screamo" genre, the prodigal son of punk and emo that apparently best describes the likes of Dashboard Confessional, whose "Vindicated" from the Spider-man 2 soundtrack has always been my favorite musical companion to Tobey Maguire's pouty Peter Parker.)

While few would still proudly claim Bryan Adams a personal favorite, the late '90s remain my most enduring and universally accepted era, with the Dave Matthews Band and the Barenaked Ladies becoming linchpins in my playlist. Their balance of frivolity, i.e. DMB's sexual hyperbole and BNL's frequent lyrical goofiness, with the seriousness of autobiographical tunes like "Warehouse" and "What a Good Boy," respectively, best reflect the time a boy leaves the nest of home and high school to become a man at college -- which is exactly when I embraced them. David Gray shortly followed with his White Ladder, the album that made hit "Babylon" an overplayed guilty pleasure.

Now, my love for karaoke sckewed my musical development a bit, as I found myself most comfortable singing songs like Billy Joel's "Piano Man" and most recently John Cougar Mellancamp's "The Authority Song," tunes that I didn't consider personal favorites until they won me some acclaim onstage. Hearing those old radio hits coming out of my own mouth gives their otherwise dated lyrics new personal meaning; now, I liken Bon Jovi's Tommy and Gina to a modern day Romeo and Juliet in both romantic clout and lyrical significance! Like when you shake a bedsheet to roll and smooth out across a mattress, karaoke kicked up the wrinkle of those forgettable '80s and '90s jams so I could be comfortable with them in my mp3 player, too.

In recent years, I've embraced the ambient sounds of the Postal Service and Keane, the folksy blends of Farmer Not So John and Eddie from Ohio, and a smattering of odd pop jams like Li'l Mama's "Lipgloss" to round out an ironically eclectic yet still painfully narrow-minded playlist. So, the question remains -- What am I supposed to do with the whole world of music at my fingertips?

Well, firstly, I've collected my favorite artists' latest stuff. Let's face it: everybody hates their favorite bands' new stuff until it becomes just another part of the old stuff. I felt this way about David Gray's White Ladder album; it was so good that I was sure his follow-ups would pale in comparison, and I didn't bother. I mined some of his older material through re-releases and found it inconsistent, an artist trying to find his voice, so I figured White Ladder was appropriately as far as he could climb. Boy, was I wrong! Tracks like "Alibi," "Ain't No Love," and "Slow Motion" from his album Life in Slow Motion have become instant favorites. I've even found some incredible live versions of these tunes on YouTube, and would you believe that "Alibi" actually has a story-driven music video? Whatever happened to those days?

Yes, also, live tracks of old favorites have become a must to download. The Dave Matthews Band and Barenaked Ladies are infamous for their available live material, but live albums from Toad the Wet Sprocket, R.E.M., and Counting Crows have breathed new life into the overplayed radio hits I fondly remember from the '90s. See, this is where the branching out begins. Knowing these bands only from what I've heard on the radio, I actually begin to enjoy their other lesser known tracks. In turn, the band's overall musical identity, not what I had expected, broadens my pallet to other, similar tastes. Ideally, I should experience these past three decades in a way I never have before, as if I'd always owned these albums, saw these bands live, and lived a more comprehensive musical experience. The key word is ideally.

The thing about downloading music on either side of the legal spectrum is the threat that "the album" loses its identity, and by proxy, the band does, too. Imagine if "Money" was the only track you'd ever heard from Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon. Does that hit represent the psychedelic context of the album as a whole? Even if the album weren't conceptual like that, consider this: If "Everything I Do (I Do It For You)" from the Robin Hood soundtrack was the only Bryan Adams song you'd ever heard (and for many, it is -- and thanks, last week's episode of Family Guy, for nailing that stake in the coffin), you'd never know of his earlier rip-roarin' tunes like "Summer of '69" or "Kids Wanna Rock." Downloading an artist's work by disjointed track is like trying to appreciate a painting via one piece of a puzzle -- and that's where the music industry is headed.

Worse, consider how American Idol operates. The mission: We're going to find the next big pop star by making contestants sing other people's songs. Then judges throw out criticisms like, "We don't know who you are as an artist," and, "That was very karaoke." Listening to some of the top artists and hits that Rhapsody has to offer . . .?

I couldn't have said it better myself. Ever hear that old saying, "Stick with what you know?" Right now, it's music to my ears.