“bong bong”
02/27/2002 16:45:19 EST •
tags: tangram.tv/rant
every time I play a live show (which so far
has only been five or six times) I experience
what can only be described as utter,
complete, soul-vacuuming despair
immediately afterwards. this has happened
each time even if I enjoy the everliving shit
out of myself and find the work satisfying
and whatnot. it's kind of seriously
disconcerting when I sit down and think
about it, cuz like, I'm doing something I
seriously love to do, and for the most part I'm
getting results; anyway typically later on in the evening,
with perhaps a beer or two swilling around
in me, I can take a more upbeat (nay,
braggardly) stance on things and join in
celebrating the evenings' achievements with
my musician and artist friends.
but like for a half an hour after my shows I'm
so fantasically despairing and upset that I'm
nearly catatonic. I usually just stare straight
ahead at the bar (or in the case of the
boston warehouse, on the floor in front of a
colossal matrix of blinking LEDs) thinking
about how absolutely awful and horrendous
my show was. it's freaky and bizarre and like
I said, it has nothing to do with how good the
actual performance actually was or the
degree to which I nearly splattered my own
brains with sheer unadulterated pleasure
during the throwdown in question.
I mention this becuz last night I was
particularly harsh on myself, cuz I wasn't that
into it while it was going on, and I had all
sorts of equpiment problems (which, really,
should have been expected considering the
frightening complexity of the setup I had
going in the scummy corner of the dive bar
we played at). plus the first music guy for
whom I provided visual accompaniment was
a total wanker in every way, and I was so
incredibly not feeling it during his set I could
have just slit my wrists right there.
anyway yeah but people afterwards told me
it was good shit, which I vehemently
protested until jesse threw ice at me and
told me to shut up cuz it was good shit, yes,
and that was funny, so in retrospect it was in
fact good shit. yessir. afterwards we drank
40s and smoked cigarettes on my rooftop in
the rain.
the only exception thus far has been the shit I did at new
years, immediately after which I was so trancendantly
intoxicated by the one-two punch of talking to
girls and drinking my face off that I sang a
jennifer lopez song while charging around
lower manhattan, as you may recall.
yeah and speaking of wrist-slitting, before
the show tyler tripped in the dark hallway leading to
the restroom in the back of the bar and
scraped his forearm, which didn't look bad
at first but about 2/3 of the way through the
set he found that he had dribbled volumous
gobs of blood onto his powerbook, the floor,
the table, and his fucking pants. he had to
get up and run into the bathroom, and he
was there for so long that jesse and I had to
wrap it up without him. it was some hideous yet strangely
amusing shit, let me tell you.
anyway yeah so speaking of all that, we've
decided to bill ourselves as an actual band.
tyler, jesse and I will be henceforth known
as 'concentric rectangles' when we throw
down. it's much better than just saying
'jesse and tyler, with fish doing video' and
considering the fact that the new shit I'm
working in will perfectly sync my fucked video
effects to the audio, it just makes a lot of
sense.
yeah so in reading that paragraph over
again I just actually realized that yeah I'm in
a BAND! word life. that's some new shit. I'm
not a musician tho, so I can't really just drop
that, cuz people'll be like, what do you play?
and I'll have to say something like adobe
illustrator and that's just dumb.
anyway also- the reason the title of this entry
is 'bong bong': we had one point in the show
where I glitched the video just as jesse
played back some random computer vomit
noise and then killed the mixers. in the
ensuant silence, tyler muttered 'shit' and
everyone gaped, thinking we'd somehow
crashed our gnarly pile of computers in
some heroic fashion. little did they know
what we were planning. the distinctive apple
computer 'BONGGG' sound echoed out of
the PA. but then it sounded again, and
again... and then jesse started slicing it up
and threw the hardass beatbox break on top
of it. I came back in with a clip of a monkey
falling out of a tree (funny cuz everything I'd
been doing up until that point had been
abstract animated graphicky shit) and
pumped all the crack effects to the max. it
was the one moment I would concede was
truly nice last night, until jesse threw the ice
at me like that, cuz he's my people like that.
yeah.
anyway yeah. in news not pertaining to last
night's fucking show: I'm back in new york
with more rockin' date action this weekend.
me and maqui gonna make a meal, you
watch. I figure spinach curry (cuz she don't
eat the meat, you see) and some
black-bottom pie should do the trick like that.
also more record-shopping and
pants-shopping. geez I haven't bought pants
in so long. if I go into the pants store w/ no
supervision I'm liable to freak out and buy
really stupid pants. I should think about this.
-fi$$h2000.000>>>000.0
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