Me, I Ain't Going Anywhere, Just Sit and Watch the Sun Come Up, I Like it Here

My old buddy, Sibyl, from this evening.

My old buddy, Nick Cave, from his latest masterpiece of a record, "Dig!!! Lazarus Dig!!!"

Listen.

"Albert goes west, he crossed the vast indifferent deserts of Arizona, oh yeah
He had a psychotic episode on a dude ranch that involved a bottle of ammonia
Henry, he went south and lost his way deep in the weeping forests of Le Vulva
He grew so wan, he grew so sick, he ended up in a bungalow sucking a revolver

The light upon your rainy streets offers many reflections
I won't be held responsible for my actions

Bobby, he goes north, then he goes east, then over to New Hampshire
Bobby is a cautious man, he walked into a Concord dive to drink a beer

Mhm...

Do you wanna dance?
Yeah, do you wanna move?
Yeah, do you wanna dance?
Do you wanna groove?

I said this world is full of endless abstractions
I won't be held responsible for my actions

Me, I ain't going anywhere, just sit and watch the sun come up, I like it here
I watch the people go ticking past, go hey hey hey, you know I gotta say I like it here

All right.

Sha la-la-la, sha la-la-la, sha la-la-la-la-la-la
Sha-la-la-la, sha la-la-la, sha la-la-la-la-la-la"

Endless abstractions sort of week. Had a hell of an evening with Chip last night (thanks Marko and Chris!). Dropped him off at Stacy's this morning for the "tornado shoot." Lauren is coming in tomorrow as is Sarah.

I wish my baby were here, too.

And This...

Nothing...

...except this.



And this makes me happy.

Guilty Pleasure

Steely Dan. The band. Not the dildo from "Naked Lunch." Ironic, esoteric motherfuckers. Easy on the ears but lyrically challenging.

They got by the man. And do everyday when they get played on the AOR stations.

Fagen and Becker's songs are about excess, heroin addiction and debauchery.

Set to swinging radio-friendly vibes.

From Wikipedia:

"It was originally speculated that the song was written about the Wake Forest University Demon Deacons, but in a Rolling Stone interview, Donald Fagen said "Walter and I had been working on that song at a house in Malibu. I played him that line, and he said, "You mean it's like, 'They call these cracker assholes this grandiose name like the Crimson Tide, and I'm this loser, so they call me this other grandiose name, Deacon Blues?' " And I said, "Yeah!" He said, "Cool! Let's finish it!""

And don't even get me started about "Doctor Wu" - their heroin dealer...and a reference from the excellent James Coburn James Bond rip-off film "Our Man Flint."

And they gained total indie cred when the Minutemen covered it on "Double Nickles on the Dime" way back when.

Listen.

Did I mention that the name of the band was the name of a dildo in William Burroughs' "Naked Lunch?"

I probably mentioned that before...there's a theme here...

Very few people know that. But hats off to Fagen and Becker.

They are playing the Beacon Theatre here this week.

I won't be attending. But a bunch of dildos will be...



Natsuko. She's my Doctor Wu...sans heroin.

"This is the day
Of the expanding man
That shape is my shade
There where I used to stand
It seems like only yesterday
I gazed through the glass
At ramblers
Wild gamblers
Thats all in the past

You call me a fool
You say its a crazy scheme
This one's for real
I already bought the dream
So useless to ask me why
Throw a kiss and say goodbye
I'll make it this time
I'm ready to cross that fine line

I'll learn to work the saxophone
I'll play just what I feel
Drink scotch whisky all night long
And die behind the wheel
They got a name for the winners in the world
I want a name when I lose
They call Alabama the crimson tide
Call me Deacon Blues

My back to the wall
A victim of laughing chance
This is for me
The essence of true romance
Sharing the things we know and love
With those of my kind
Libations
Sensations
That stagger the mind

I crawl like a viper
Through these suburban streets
Make love to these women
Languid and bittersweet
I'll rise when the sun goes down
Cover every game in town
A world of my own
I'll make it my home sweet home

This is the night
Of the expanding the man
I take one last drag
As I approach the stand
I cried when I wrote this song
Sue me if I play too long
This brother is free
I'll be what I want to be."

Everyday Is Like Sunday...

Angela. Different. My goal.

Morrissey. The same.

"i'm just looking for a friend of mine..."

The last Joy Division post. For real. "Control" forced a new, but welcomed, resonance with me...

If you don't care about the band or the fact that "Interzone" is a William Burroughs book, well, the cinematography is stunning.

Jus' sayin'.

It's complicated. Just like everything else...

Anti Gear-Head

A friend of mine, who had a lot of cameras, recently sold a bunch of them. He loves cameras, but decided that there were too many hanging around that he never really used. His primary film camera is a Leica, and he shoots most of the editorial work he does with the two he has.

Two other friends of mine just bought into the Leica digital and it has become all-consuming for them. Everywhere they go, it goes.

I'm so not a gear-head. I'm happy with my little menagerie of misfit cameras. They are all different and do the job I want them to do. Currently in my arsenal:

- My beloved 35mm Pentax ZX-M
- My wonderful 35mm Konica Auto-Reflex Half-Frame
- My kick ass Mamiya 645 system w/ the Polaroid back
- My workhorse 35mm NIkon F5
- My extremely durable, but outdated Nikon D50 digital

And other than the many antique cameras I have, that's it.

Sometimes I worry when I show up for a gig that someone will pass judgement that I'm not whipping out the Hasselblad, or the whatever with the Leaf back, but you know, fuck it, I do really good work with my versatile collection of freaks.

The Pentax is my third. It's the third because it is an extension of my hand and brain. I can do anything with this camera.

The first passed away in a boating accident ("This was no boating accident!") somewhere between here and Boston in 1988. The camera flew out of my hand across the boat in a violent storm and hit the opposite wall 12 feet way and the body cracked in half. I was seasick, so at the moment I really didn't care. But when I took it to the repair shop in Boston the week after the storm, the guy said "You got insurance?" After I indicated that I didn't, he let it fall 4 feet into a trash can. Blam. Harsh, but lesson learned...

The second was stolen by some marauding drag queens at the launch party for an album called "Disco Divas" that a client of mine invited me to. I'm not so upset about the camera as I am about the roll of film that was in it from that night.

The third was given to me by a former girlfriend for Christmas in 2001. It's still here, and it recently took this shot of Carolyn:



The F5 doesn't get enough play, but I spoke to it tonight and promised to take it out for walkies more often.

The Konica I got off of eBay about a year ago with the intention of making it an in-camera diptych taking machine. Something to make me think before shooting. I've been so successful with it that a certain young talented female photographer has been using it a lot lately and is proving to be better at making them than I am.

The Mamiya is my high-tech baby. Three lenses and the Pola back. There is nothing like looking through the glass of those lenses. And the shots are magical.

Four days ago I dropped my Nikon digital and fucked up the lens - no big deal as you can get those toys for $189.99 at B&H, but I have missed it's simplicity and versatility this week. I need to either get that lens fixed or just get another one.

On the musical tip, the new NIN album, "The Slip" is pretty darn good, and I'm not even the biggest fan. Trent is giving it away for free at the official "Slip " site.

Check it out.

Shadowplay

Shit. Lauren wins. Again...

6am up for corporate client video shoot this morning, me directing.

Driven to and from New Jersey.

Nuff said.

Saw Marko and Smiph tonight. Hadn't seen Smiph in quite some time. And she was right, she was a totally different Smiph. Listened more, talked less, still cute though...no way around that.

The three of us talked about our common mentor and how he has this astonishing way of putting everything, no matter what, into perspective. A producer's nightmare, he.

I'ma gonna try to get up to see him next week, finances willing.

Came home to Joy Division's "Preston 28 February 1980" in the mailbox and it's almost through it's first play right now.

Thanks, Chris. I didn't even know it existed a week ago.



Marko and I late one night at his place being really fucking serious. With beers held tightly in synch. Probably, the seriousness was about Joy Division. Or something just as important. Like The Smiths.

Courtesy (and copyright) Cari.

Check out Marko's link to the right, He's one of the good guys...

...."Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance to the radio."

Indeed.