I often indulge myself in a little wonderlust about the subtle and important phenomenological quandries of the day. In other, flowerier words, I enjoy having a raucous tea party with the butterfly effect. Now, of course, we have all George Bailey'd ourselves and daydreamed how awful the world would be if we had never been born (for me there would have been no one to watch City Confidential or silently catalog all of the regional toppings at Subway, not too much of a loss). I, in my great benevolence, have decided to eschew (someone got a thesaurus for christmas!) the negative aspect of this game and concentrate on the positive.
In that spirit, here is the dream I had last night. It is the 1989. Albert Ayler has not succumbed to the devil in his beard and never washed up in the Hudson. He, in fact, has gone in slightly the same route that Pharoah Sanders did, the route that he presaged in his last record (his best in my opinion and I am fucking willing to fight about it too), New Grass. This leads to a monumental genre hopping circle jerk album with him screeching "New Generation" over the top of some Terminator X beats in a Public Enemy/Albert Ayler blockbuster. I am 15 and play the trumpet. One day I go down to the Hi-School Pharmacy in Clatskanie 7.99 in pennies in the pocket of my carhartts and am going to buy a new cassette tape from Mrs. Carman to play in my rad new boombox. The choices are there, same as in the reality we have now.....Miles Davis "Sketches of Spain", KISS "Animalize" and "The Best of George Jones"....but wait, there is a 4th choice...."Sunshine Riot" by Public Enemy/Albert Ayler. Well, I have the Jones and KISS, so the choice is clear. I buy the cassette, pop it into my TEAC and everything becomes very clear to me. The trumpet is put under my bed and the next 19 years are devoted solely to a Mishima Sun and Steel type of militance. I drop out of high school and punch frozen sides of beef in the local abattoir while reciting Baudelaire and Lao Tze. Slowly, the followers come around. I take over Longview, WA on the platform of year round McRib Sandwiches at McDonalds. We press forward to Portland, leaving Kalama in flames. By the millenium, I have created the bloodiest fascist regime the US has ever seen. My new country is called Emeraldia and encompasses all of the west coast, plus Vancouver BC, Mexico, Rhode Island, and Bangor, ME. Inevitably, in 2004, I start a war to take over the rest of the "heathen confedaracy" and.....
so see, things happen for a reason.
Be thankful that I'll just be playing at IBeam on Saturday with another possible tyrant, Peter Evans.
168 7th StreetBrooklyn, NY 11215
SUBWAYTake the F or R trains to 4th Ave & 9th Street. Walk down 4th ave to 7th street. Make a left on 7th and walk past 3rd ave. We are located on the ground floor, the grey doors to the right of the stairs of #168.
Nate Wooley and Peter Evans DuoNate Wooley – Trumpet/EffectsPeter Evans – Trumpet/EffectsYou could refer to Nate Wooley and Peter Evans as trumpet extremists. No matter how they wield their horns, both tend toward the boundary-straining end of the spectrum. (Shaun Brady)10:00 pmDan Peck TrioDan Peck (tuba)Tom Blancarte (bass)and Brian Osborne (drums)Come hear the soundtrack to the end of the world as the trio explores the lowest thresholds of human hearing. Combining compositions that evoke Doom metal and improvisations that suggest Braxton, the trio focuses on the tuba and bass as a sub-sonic duo, with the percussion adding punctuation to their down sounds.
power to the people.....for now.