Attack Black

So I went out last night to play Some drums @ the sanctuary, I was grooving fine. later I went for a walk and ended up in this bizarre bar where I believe 5 gay men were fighting and the waitress was singing loudly to recordings with vocals that had significantly different cadence and tone combinations that what was coming out of her mouth. I read the local shithole paper and nursed a beer. I could feel that the new presence of a man with sideburns, short shorts, white sox, bright lime foam thongs and SCARB JACKET (lumber jacket) was beginning to be felt.

It's the old the guy at the party who doesn't really want to party yet does what he wants to do none the less without regard for the fact that he may be spoiling fun.

Every once and a while everybody needs to fuck off.

I woke up on Saturday morning later than expected not feeling exactly chipper. I had a coffee and a bowl of Special K and then I went over to KOKO to finish the 21tr CD with my mates. On the way there I stopped by jack freelances house to feed his cat and clean a litter box. to be honest I had no intention of dealing with the litter box... I don't do cat shit. I have been very clear on that. Apparently a mother is coming by to help as well. this matters not since the cat has begun to shit outside the box on the tile floor... I scooped it up and put it in the toilet and flushed and them promptly vomited the contents of my stomach in a short 8 violent actions. After the garbarator sounds I wiped the tears from my eyes and regrouped. It looked a little windy up there in the sky palace. So I carried on to KOKO a few short blocks away. About 10 steps into my journey a savage storm hit instantly soaking me. I literally sprinted the last 2 blocks of Broadway and came whipping around Manitoba and 8th to KOKO where Willingdon Black was standing all dry... a man of Authority.
Only the Gods were to know that in a few short hours it would be Willingdon Black who would be whipped by a somewhat metaphorical storm. and of course the irony of it all being the sword that mortally wounded him come from his longtime friend Mule Hughes, a man who when reporting on a event in which cheers were measured to pick a winner wrote something like ..."CC Sit-down had a thunderous applause and I had Myself and the Stalwart Mr. Black".

The biggest surprise of the day were the songs that I forgot about in terms of "what is a key song for the release".

I like them all very much, except the one that will not see it's name called come pressing time. that's songs failure was my own for trying to sneak one by the grand machine. no real loss

It was the first song we listened to today. Probably 20 minutes after the cat shit incident and 10 minutes since the soaking. I feared that song I knew I hated it for some fine reasons and it needed to be assassinated. I was hoping to listen to whishing machine first, I know I like the mix and it all sounds good so it would be a quick approval everybody would be feeling good and we would move on.

Willingdon black had a fine first period and he shed ample effects off of the guitars... Perhaps he even looked confidant going into the first coffee brake intermission. Then Hobbs and Super struck back leaving his voice offering I AM A FAILURE AND I KNOW IT all alone at the end of the track, and then his Famous backwards guitar solo got left in the mix of last call. He sat in the producers chair and took notes that looked like the box score of an elaborate game.

shit now it's Sunday night and all kinds of lawnmowers have been revved up.

An inside joke between Simm and myself is that getting work done = mowing grass and keeping it clean... because you don't want the grass to get too long under your feet.

Indeed... all functions are in full gear now for the 21tr release.

I should have noted that I ran into Cam Dilworth on the Neins Circa and he is going to come and play the Super Robertson Supper show this next Wednesday. It looks like it will be an Artist's artist session as we will have everybody sketch cam while he plays.

Bring your supplies.