August 2011
23 posts
July 2011
27 posts
rhcp rock big sur with intimate show
listen to cosmogony
Why Nevermind matters, according to your favorite musicians.
breathtaking Kurt photos, Nirvana rerelease, free cover album. thanks, spin. oh well whatever nevermind.
You are correct, everyone knows Jimi was a lefty. But no mistake was made. Watch the video I just posted. He’s playing a strat strung for a right-handed player, he’s just playing it upside down. That was one of the many ways Hendrix achieved his psychedelic sound. As my character is right-handed, all she had to do was pick up and play as-is. Trust me, we do our research. Thanks for watching!
every woman has a piece of Aphrodite
Could not have been more delighted to be the opening act for Toronto’s esteemed Chris Gostling and the Tempo last night. My first time playing a real set (45 minutes). None of this open jam business. A table of drunk people singing along. My friends videoing with their iPhones. A beautiful borrowed ukulele from the Toronto Institute for the Enjoyment of Music. Thank you, Press Club, for being my Cheers. Thank you, Toronto, for welcoming me into your spectacular scene.
This is real. This is Dundas.

Showing off my map of Tasmania.
i never touched nothing that my spirit could kill
I play in a ukulele duo. We’re called uke:ish ways. Last night, we were set to perform a grouping of Ramones tunes at a local open mic hosted by some friends. We coordinated our attire (leather jackets), and I planned all the punk faces and postures I would perpetrate (pouting and snarling). How very un-punk.
I routed my electric through my wah-wah pedal, into a gnarly little Vox amp provided by my partner, Howie. Howie connected his fuzz pedal into another powerful amp, and his cutaway model wailed. We rattled glasses and eardrums alike. For one song.
As I slapped the body of my uke at the end of our opening number and shouted “Hey! Ho! Let’s go!” I felt the strings go limp under my fingers. I thought I had popped my first string. I was horrified to discover that I had done much worse.
Joey Ramone heard the growl in my voice last night. He heard the fuzz wailing from that little vox amp, he heard me slapping my uke to the beat of Blitzkrieg Bop. And he heard me loud enough to reach out from his grave and slap the bridge clean off my beautiful black ukulele.
The crowd went crazy, as nothing could have been more punk than playing so hard the instrument couldn’t take it. I went crazy for other reasons. My uke!! But the show had to rage on, so I picked up a guitar and powered through the set with Bonzo Goes to Bitburg and Sheena is a Punk Rocker, imbued with an anger that could not have been manufactured by any stage acting. True punk is anger and sadness. And let me tell you, there was a fleeting moment where I felt the urge to smash that ukulele to bits. But I kept playing.
I have learned a few things from this experience. 1: be gentle with your ukulele. It’s more delicate than you think. 2: anything truly rock and roll can never be planned. One must allow it to happen and roll with it. 3: don’t fuck with the Ramones.
Punk’s not dead.
