origins Vol. 4: freddie's dead...

In junior high school I played the trombone, and I was pretty good. I was the one of only two eigth graders in that year in the prestigious JHS 109 Jazz Band, Khadaffy Khan was the other, also a trombonist--he made me look silly on the instrument...



Our teacher and bandleader was the legendery Mr Allen Stier, among other things, the creator of the Ba-Sax, half bassoon, half sax, rumored to be living in Cuba, (the Ba-Sax, not Stier). Everybody wanted to be in Mr. Stier's class, but you had to pass a music test in the elementary school the year before. I was a lucky one. And even though I wanted to play drums, he put a trombone in my hand and called it mine. My brother, the elder also played the trombone in the jazz band...



The jazz band always played the popular jazz hits from the past plus a twist on new songs, among them a freaked out Rock Me Amadeus and the Theme to Peter Gunn. We played at Colden Center in Queens college and we began out the set with Peter Gunn coming up from the orchestra pit on a rising stage, it was the shit!! Girls yelling your name, people in the crowd going nuts, the jazz band was it, and we were good, highlighted by Chris Leathers, the greatest drummer I have ever heard in my life bar-none...



As good as we were Stier felt we needed a challenge, so for the weeks leading up to the Spring Concert we began work on a new piece--Red Clay by Freddie Hubbard. As we learned the piece, and it started to form I started to really dig the song, I didn't know it, in fact back then I wouldn't have known much, but I liked it. As we drew closer to the concert we all thought as a band that we had gotten very tight with the piece, Leathers had an incredible drum solo he would do in rehearsals--never the same thing twice--we began to press Stier if he was going to add it to the set, he kind of shot us a look and said 'nah'. Case closed. 'Amadeus' it was...



Years later working at Tower Records after we opened the jazz room, I opened up a copy of Red Clay. It was after closing so I turned it up all the way in the enclosed room. It was the first time I would actually hear the song outside of playing it, and it was at that moment that I realized why Stier wouldn't let us play the song that night of Spring Concert...



Red Clay is clearly one of the best songs ever recorded--ever. Do your self a solid justice and find a copy of this song and play it today. I would have attached a link here except I have been unable to find a full version. Do what you have to and find a copy. Sit down, with a cup of tea, a joint, a beer, a sandwich, whatever and take 13 minutes out of your day to hear perfection...



Freddie Hubbard was not the most innovative, or popular trumpet player, he was simply just the best at the instrument...



I found out early this morning that Freddie Hubbard died two days ago...

origins vol 3...the search for spock

For the record the name of this blog was given to me by my brother...

...He's a bastard, and he'll tell you so at beingabastardworks.blogspot.com

I was in the middle of the woods explaining to dean thrilla how arguing with me is a moot point when ill prepared and in the aftermath the bastard commented that my debate style was like a Constellation of Logic...

The bastard's blog apparently was tagged by left hand rob who has his own thing going on.  The link is on the bastard's blog, get it there 'cause I do don't do all that science shit...

The Idea was to take a picture right then and there and post and answer some question. I didn't have an opportunity to take a picture and then forgot about for hours, finally remember and there you go...

I'm supposed to answer some questions, but I'm not going to. I don't follow the rules anymore...

People ask me why I wear sunglasses all the time, I tell them simply...

...the Constellation of Logic is just much too bright

you must chill!...i have hidden your keys...

I want to start to go and see plays. I've been wanting to do this for a while. Robbo once talked about True West by Sam Shepherd and it just made me want to see it. It was revived by Philip Seymour Hoffman and John C Reilly a couple of years back but I was in Florida so I missed out then.


I remember reading in Details magazine leading up to the film Magnolia that John C, who was playing a police officer wanted to write in scenes of him mimicking an episode of Cops. It led to the scene where he does a little soliloquy about his job and its day to day aspects, the shot is fairly close one shot as he speaks. After the release the payoff of his speech, the shot cuts to a two shot where you find out that no one else is in the car. "I drink your milkshake" is good and all, but give me John C in that scene, the cut of him sitting on the edge of his bed watching the Today show and suddenly laughing as if he was suddenly amused at some innocuous barb by Katie Couric everytime. And if not that then give me the scene in Boogie Nights when he and Marc Wahlberg fight the studio manager for their demo tapes. There are outakes on the DVD, get it. The scene in front of the intrepid in State of Grace as Stevie. In the Details piece he relays a story of how, when he came up with the idea of using Cops as inspiration, friend and director, Paul Thomas Andersen would grab his camera and they would go over to Philip Seymour Hoffman's house, unbeknownst to him, and play out a scene from cops. That's a platinum fucking grill-piece, right there.


Hoffman in his own right, after trying to kiss Dirk in Boogie Nights, throwing a fit of sexual frustration. Or his tough guy in Punch Drunk Love, there's so much but I will always keep an eye on Along Came Polly when it comes on because of the basketball scenes but more importantly for the boardroom scene towards the end when he clears his throat for 5 minutes. The point is that these two actors are brilliant, they may even be brighter than the Constellation of Logic itself.


So, what's up with this dude...

What a slick faggot (my apologies to my homosexual friends who wouldn't be offended so much by my use of such an epitath but more because I would lump him into the gay community)...

20 years ago that dude was screaming "give me my firebird keys!"--he played the heavy's nameless cohort in "One Crazy Summer." John Cusack literally made him. I used the to dig the guy--eccentric, manic, he plays it well. But all this shouldn't be happening because of a show like "Entourage." People love that fucking show. I think it is the most overrated piece of jump the shark before the shark can even jump garbage. I liken it to when people fawn over the band Oasis, they have four albums and three good songs...THREE. Critics of Oasis say the ripped their best riffs and harmonies from the Beatles, I take it one step further and say Oasis ripped their best material from Badfinger...

I was psyched to find out that he was going to be in a David Mamet Play. I know, Speed the Plow was done years ago, infamously by Madonna, I tuned out like Mr. Blue. Mamet is great, Glengarry GlenRoss will go down as one of the finest pieces of writing anyone will ever get to see put to stage or screen...

Point is I wanted to see it, and now Piven can't seem to hold his fish--using mercury poisoning as an excuse for his exile. Couldn't have been all the boozing and no doubt cocaine you've snorting off of stripper's asses downtown could it. I mean, we're all big kids here in NYC Jeremy, this ain't no hick rodeo, you can't just storm off broadway and cry mercury poisoning. That's like Wahlberg getting all upset about the dead-on "say hi to your motha' for me" impersonation by Andy Samberg. At least Marc did a funny that weekend with Lorne, and Andy on SNL, the best part of which is him not even paying attention to Sarah Palin, when he accosted Lorne Michaels for Samberg's whereabouts. A guy I dig these days is Justin Timberlake, he just gets it. He makes himself fairly available and plays against his looks and dignity on a regular basis. He and Samberg make a good team. But Piven, Piven has himself holed up like he's reprising his role in Smokin' Aces...

I'm calling bullshit, Jeremy, you sign the deal you walk the fucking line, people paid good money to see you, not Elizabeth Moss (who I could take or leave, I didn't like her work on the West Wing and I don;t get all the hub-bub about Mad Men) and the other hothead, I didn't know he was alive into I saw the comercial for the play, he might as well been seating me at a table in Applebees. So I say fuck you Piven, fuck Ari Gold, you let get to your head, and I'm not having it...

There's a scene in Singles where Piven's store clerk recognizes Cambell Scott as an old college DJ he used to love, he's talking about how he used to spin records and he excitedly asks Scott's character if he would come to a throwdown his buddies are having later that night "its going to be major..." he then notices he is ringing up a pregnancy test for Scott and his amped expression fades dead away, "so, I guess your busy then," he says...

That's gold. Ari can go suck a dick...

honorable mention vol 1...

It has come to my attention that the actor Sam Bottoms has died. Bottoms was best known as Corporal Lance Johnson in the movie Apocalypse Now!--most notably in the air calvary scene along with Robert Duvall. I'm not going to link this scene for you because one of two things must be true in order for you to continue to follow this blog, you either:

1. Already have this scene playing in your mind as you read this.

2. Or you are consulting your copy, (any of the multiple versions will do), for the scene as you read this.

For the rest of you, you are dimissed...

As for you Lance Corporal Johnson, you too are dismissed, may you always surf the big wave...

free hair gel and sweat pants with each order...

HOLY MOTHERFUCKER!!!!

Are you fucking kidding me...

...I haven't seen one of these since the days of yore

I wonder if it comes with FREE DOMESTIC VIOLENCE inside...

your moment of clarity vol 1...

I guess its about time I talk about his Facebook thing.

Over the years you make friends, lose them and so on and so forth. Shit happens, thing falls apart, people grow, whatever excuse it is you want to use, don't matter, they've all been used. Fact is, maybe out of all the people you ever meet over the years through playing little league, playing handball and drinking at elementary school lot, or neighborhood park  or church parking lot—every place you ever had a drink, the hardcore/metal shows, High School, College, clubs, work, more work, yoga class, what have I bet you can name you're real friends, your real connections by counting fingers...

I'm not asking you to dis the majority of people you've ever met, but I think we all know there is a chosen few that stick in your head, people that have made a mark on your soul you can't wipe away...

Until recently I had been  missing some of those people in my life for some time. The people I understood and understood me likewise. I was missing them but there was always a backwards six degrees of separation to get in touch with these people and see them. I spoke on some weeks ago in this very place...

There has been one individual, that fluttered in and out of my thoughts over close to 15 years. One person who's distance and anonymity had haunted me for so long, I asked mutual friends, enemies, looked high and low (not really but it sounds like I really tried this way—'cause I did) only to fail time and time again. Until Facebook...

Since joining Facebook I have had run ins with a multitude of people from my past. And almost all of them I was glad to hear from. But then I saw her name come up...

We've been talking now through Facebook for a couple of days now. It the kind of talk you have with yourself on train platforms, or the walk up Broadway to Penn Station in wee small hours, or Robert Moses Beach. I don't get to have these conversations with anyone else, she's the only one, and its fucking freakin' me out—in a good way. I'm not going to get into specifics about our back and forth, because simply put, its none of your bizwix, and I'm sure she'll agree that most of you aren't worthy anyway, suffice to say that in talking with her I was inspired to say this...

...its a humbling experience to have your life in someone else's hands—its that when you actualy see, in reality, that your life is almost always in someone else's hands and you just have to hope that person is legit, whether its your doctor, or friend, parent or lover. The choice of who that person is, is yours—so you have to choose wisely...

and that's you're moment of clarity...

thanks little kitty, we'll be talking...

Homework

They say a picture is worth 1,000 words...

...GO!

Origins Vol.2 Electric Bugaloo...

Yeah, I'm making an effort to post twice in one calender week, up yours Flynn. Actually I'm not making much of an effort. I work in a series of random delusions, and when it suits me, I get up on here...

I have this revolving portion of a playlist on the rebirth of the kool (my IPod) that I keep playing over and over like a soundtrack. This happens from time to time where I just stick to one thing for long periods. Such was the case when Erykah Badu's last record came out, I listened to it non-stop for two and a half weeks...speaking of that, yo E, where's the new one, you said it would be out by now, but my ears ain't heard shit. Wha's happenin'?..

But I've been running through this set-- "Learning to Hunt" by Guided by Voices, "Beggin'" by Madcon, "Run to the Sun" by NERD, "Lost in a Supermarket" by the Clash and "Get Me" by Everything But the Girl and its starting to sound like a biography. Sometimes I let "Northern Sky" by Nick Drake bleed in and if there is time (and there should always be time) I skip to "Demon Sweat" by Ween and "Staralfur" by Sigur Ros, who I love for no other reason then they craft epics that sound like some beautiful gibberish (Check "Saeglopur" where the lyrics are actually an Icelandic nonsense language called Hopelandic, utterly special)...

The playlist itself, Space Out, bore its beginnings from a failed trip to Montauk that found me at Robert Moses State Park, paralyzed, and unable to drive, not because of lack of faculty, but because I completely forgot how. That's all I'm willing say about it at this point. Things have been different in my head since then, for good or bad remains to be seen, let's just leave it at that...

I'll be making some changes to Space Out as a whole, but that central component will stay undisturbed as a centerpiece, I just need to find the pieces around it. It could very well be the beginning of my first tape since Return of the 22 from Summer 2006...

Don't worry if it doesn't make sense, its not supposed to, at least to you. My goal is to make you think I'm nutcakes, because I am--as far as you know, and that's how I like it...

Good falafel today from the place below the LIRR tracks in the FHills, coming straight out of Rego has its advantages...

sheep?! i ain't no shepherd...

Oh, so you think you're all that, huh?! Well apparently I have my own gravitational pull—check it...

I hold my pose at the Jamaica LIRR Station all the way at the front of the platform when I wait for a train. I do so mostly to stay a way the bustle of the people moving aimlessly up , down and across the platforms. The front door of most trains open 10 feet or so short of me—that is how far up I am.

The Montauk train is powered by diesel engine. The tracks past a certain point on the island don't have a third rail so trains like the Montauk, Port Jeff and Oyster Bay trains are special they can run on both electric through the third rail and on diesel when the third rail disappears. The thing about these trains is that the first car is the engine, it doesn't take passengers. There is a cab for the engineers and then straight engine from there.

Depending on where my work takes me during the week I could be waiting at Jamaica for a train 2 or 3 times per week. And it never fails...

People feel the need to wait for their Montauk train all the way up with me...

...only to have to walk a 1/4 of the way down the platform to get on.

This happens everyday, no, check that, everyday I'm there to see it. During the summer I'm completely surrounded by throngs of annoying party-goers waiting to meet Buffy and Torg out in Southampton, only to watch them walk down the platform and stuff their smugness and excessive luggage onto the car a 1/4 of the way down the platform. It never fails. Never. And it makes me laugh.

Now I wonder, if like the tree falling in the abandoned forest, does the same thing occur when I'm not there. Or do I have gravitational pull, I mean let's face, sometimes I can't help but attract motherfuckers but it also occurs to me that it may be a sheep mentality.

When I get to my spot and sit up against the LIRR tool box, I'm the only one there. Depending on how early I get there before my train I'll see a stray smoker walking over to do the right thing and keep the smoke away from others further down the platform, (which I tip my hat to, but now I'm breathing that shit, bro'ham), but they always end up walking back down the platform after they have finished their smoke or until I have glared them into retreat. Besides those few, as the time for the Montauk train approaches, as well as the Freeport trains arrival which releases a large portion of this passenger variety, I find that when people see me waiting there I do they think 'well, if this guy is waiting here then this must be where the first door of the train opens'. Now I'm probably giving these people too much credit for having the power of rational thought, but nevertheless, I think its moments like these that show glaring instances of human nature's misguided need to follow the person in front of them even if that person was wrong. The sheep mentality...

I wonder if they would come so close if they knew that i ain't no shepherd, I'm the motherfuckin' wolf.