BUENOS AIRES HERE WE COME!

(photo by "Peach Beach" check her other B.A. photos @: http://www.flickr.com/photos/projectmoonbeam/sets/520430/show/)

Lisa Simpson: "My only friends are grown-up nerds like Gore Vidal.  And even he's kissed more boys than I have."

Marge Simpson: "Girls, Lisa!  Boys kiss girls."

  My book of choice for this rainy, gray and lazy week on Cape Cod is The Smithsonian Institution by Gore Vidal.  It's a historical science-fiction about a preternaturally precocious 12-year-old math genius who is called to the Smithsonian Institution on the eve of WWII.  There he finds a historical funhouse where the laws of time and space are completely warped and figures from throughout America's past mingle and try to effect the course of our future.  It's a bit like the film Russian Ark, but utterly American and Vidalian (nothing to do with onions), with tons of sly, knowing, campy jokes and a sense of total irreverence.  I once made fun of Genevieve for being engrossed in Vidal's Burr while we were on Halong Bay in Viet Nam (see:  http://gneexcellentadventure.blogspot.com/2005/03/g-doesnt-allow-all-scenery-to-distract.html), but now I understand.  It's nerdy fun even Lisa Simpson would enjoy.

By the way, if you are picking up crappy old records, you're probably going to need to clean them. Here's directions I stole from somewhere: To give your records a good hand washing, start by preparing this wash:
1 gallon distilled water
90 ml 70% isopropyl alcohol
1 gram Alconox (a laboratory detergent)
Also, get a natural bristle brush and trim it to the correct stiffness/bristle length so that the bristles can get into the grooves but aren't stiff enough to scratch the record.

Lay the LP flat and pour a thin coat of the above fluid on it. Brush the wash into the grooves with the bristle brush. Brush in the direction of the grooves, going through all grooves. Flush the wash and dirt off with cool, running tap water. Rinse the record with distilled water and pat it dry with a soft, clean cotton cloth.

I've been thinking lately about the beauty of free records. I mean, right now anybody can read an indie music magazine or look at Pitchfork, get an idea of what they should like, download it, and now that programs like Serato are dropping below the 500$ dollar mark, anyone with two turntables and a mixer can transmit those mp3s to encoded wax and and spin those records that same night. It's kind of great, intuitive, and moves everything foward quicker. But there is still something magical about FINDING records that you love where you might not expect to find them, sometimes without even trying. There is an amazing establishment in my town called the Truro Swap Shack, which is located at the Truro Town Dump. It's a depository for anything that people want to get rid of, but really shouldn't throw away. At the the Swap Shack you can usually find small appliances, stereo equipment, musty old clothes, plates cups and flatwear, beat-up paperbacks and tons of other random items FOR FREE. Technically you are supposed to bring stuff if you are going to take anything away, but for the most part, they just want to move everything. There is so much junk coming through there (and suprising amounts of working, saleable items brought there by the wealthier seasonal citizens of Truro) that they can't get rid of it fast enough. I've found 1st editions of books, strange old punk t-shirts, many many coffee makers, speakers, computer moniters, lamps, winter coats, etc.
I once found a collection of mix tapes made troughout the late 80s and early 90s by someone name Elizabeth. Many of them were made for other people, but all remained together in one box, which was later left at the Swap. Some were labeled with titles like "Swiss Trip 91!" or "Back to School for Andy 89". All were marked with dates and many had hand-made liner notes with magazine clippings and little collages. The music on them brought you through the years they were made, from Boy George to the Pretenders to Elvis Costello, Sinead O'Connor, into De La Soul, Ace of Bass, Midnight Oil to Public Enemy. You could even get a sense of Elizabeth's moods, from partying in '89 in high school (Prince), to some kind of break-up melodrama in the early 90s in a Boston liberal arts school (she gets into Patti Smith ). You wonder why they were eventually thrown out. Probably by Elizabeths' parents after she had moved out and long since switched to digital.
You can also find records at the swap shack, bu they are usually so boring and dusty as to be a bummer to look at. They generally are separated into three catagories: Classical, Christmas music and Show tunes. Occasionally there are some curveballs, but not being a fan of Ferrante and Tiecher (actually, who are they? and why are they in every thrift store in the world? they are like the Clive Cussler [or maybe "Future Shock" by Dr Alan Toffler] of thrift store records) and having already collected every Herb Alpert and the Tiajuana Brass album, I usually dont bother to look. The other day, though, I gave it a shot. What did I find?
Beastie Boys- Licensed to Ill (No Sleeve and a little scratched, but, hey)
Shannon- Let the Music Play (12" single with a "Dub" version of the B side. You know the one "LET THE MUSIC PLAY< IT'S TIME TO GET AWAY...")
A hot early 80 collection of Slow Jams and Black Disco called "Winners" featuring "Shake Your Body Down" by the 5, SHALAMAR, and Teddy Pendergrass etc, all "specially mixed for dancing" which means BLENDS.
How about a Jazzercise 12"?
OK, so maybe this isn't shit you would download, or even dig too much if it didn't fall in your lap. But it did, and that's the point. There's something about these record that almost find YOU- like jump on your record player.
It's not just free records either. I've also got a crate of records from thrift stores, yard sales etc. that are bananas (If anyone can tell me what this Chinese record in the graphic is I'll send you cash). My cap is around 3 dollars for one record, but if you can filter out all the good records that are more expensive than that, you can occasionally find hot shit. Genevieve may not be down, but I think the "Switched on Bach" 12" is well worth 50 cents (unlike 50 Cent, who is worth a download at best), and the Black Flag "TV Party" 7" is even worth 1.99$ even if it's a repress.
There's something nice when it's been raining for 4 days, we're going stir crazy and G and I can have a 2-person bad-music dance-party with "Rythm of the NIght", "All Night Long" (Lionel Richie), "Susudio" (you now), and "Somebody's Watching Me" for under the price of an Extra Value Meal. Ya Heard?

My man Art from http://www.3rdarm.biz made me hip to the craziness known as "Stars on 45".  He played it for me in Boston and it sounded something 2 Many DJ's without all the dance-punk and "good" music- just hectic medleys of cheese-dick Disco (think Abba).  I recently found a 7" at a Salvation Army and now I'm hooked.  It turns out that these records are from the early 80's and that my 2 Many Dj's notion wasn't too far off, because they were also Dutch.  But these record were released really before the notion of sampling existed- this is all live music, played by studio musicians to replicate the sound of the original songs and tracked onto a continuous Disco beat.  It's all a massive mash-up well before there even existed such a notion.  These records did cause a huge sensation in their time, though, and the trend of the Disco Medley was born (Jay Lawrence just reminded me that there is also a Ramones Disco Medley available as a B-side and maybe rereleased on one of their maybe Greatest Hits CDs).  The 7" I found is the "Beatles" medley, though it also contains sections from the songs "Venus" and "Sugar Sugar" for some reason.  Art has the best one with mad shitty disco songs as well as "Theme from The Good, The Bad and the Ugly" and a bunch of other left-field quotations.  There's more info at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stars_on_45  And an awesome official page in Dutch, where the only english phrases are shit like "The Funky Beat Kept Grooving!" and the incomprehesible motto "Music, the original way, but played now!" at http://www.stars-on-45.com/. It also seems there's an American outfit claiming to be Stars on 45 who will play a continuous medley AT YOUR WEDDING OR BAR MITZFAH! Dont miss that chance, check their assclown site at http://www.starson45.com/.  But really, you need to get digging and find those 7"s, thats the real fun.

Another awesome record I found at the Truro dump is this (sans this poorly designed jacket cover) one- "Bang Bang , You're Terry Reid". I took it for the cover of "Bang Bang (My Baby Shot me Down)", which was recently made popular by the Kill Bill soundtrack. His take is fucking heavy and rad. On first listen I thought he must have been the singer for one of those famous heavy rock british bands who with this record was trying to strike out solo. Not quite. Terry's band was called the Jaywalkers, and though they toured with the Stones and had some British fame, they never broke through in the States. Terry hung around with and toured with the best of that era's band- Cream, the Yardbirds, Small Faces, etc., but never quite made it with them musically. He was very nearly hired as the vocalist for Led Zeppelin but lost the spot at the 11th hour to you-know-who. After that disappointment it was nearly a straight shot to state-side oblivion and the limey Pub-rock hero circuit (God, first "The Office", now this.. am I becoming an anglo-freak?). Anyway, Zeppelin-like vocals can be heard here, as well as elements that might remind you of Blue Cheer (a searing version of Summertime Blues) or early Slade. There's also a cover of Donovan's psych classic "Season of the Witch", on which Reid tries so hard to distinguish his phrasing from that of the far more mellow troubadour that it's rendered nearly incoherent. Fantastic.

This week in Provincetown is called "Fantasia week" or something- it's one the more humorous "theme" weeks that lay claim to most of the calendar every summer here. It's not quite as hilarious as "Bear Week" (a perennial favorite for gawking and giggling with almost every girlfriend I've ever had here), not as dreaded and fear-inspiring as "Women's Week" (hundreds of pairs of matching "washer and dryer set" lesbians roaming around, mullets and visors in tow, eating, drinking and not tipping), crazy as "Carnival week", retarded as "Circuit Boy week" (don't ask), harrowing as "Baby Dyke week", strange as "Family Week", or as forgettable as the many other weeks I can't remember.
During this week you begin to see groups of frumpy secretaries, doughty spinsters, you may even catch glimpse of your grandma circa 1986 hanging out. On closer inspection, though, you will notice they wear cheap, unconvincing wigs and sport 5 o' clock shadow under their make-up. They are referred to as "Tall Ships" by the locals, and this is their week.
Fantasia is the festival for cross-dressers, men who wear women's clothing, and some transsexuals, but not drag queens. These guys appear to have a far greater disdain for fashion, appearing convincingly like a woman, or even appearing attractive. They make Tom Hanks and Peter Scolari in Bosom Buddieslook like stylish, put-together foxes. By today's standards. They look like they just raided the Goodwill for the most hideous clothes possible. Not surprisingly, (based on their fashion sense) many of these guys are straight and come with their wives and families. Here's the extremely cheesy and unconvincing Official site for more information. Note the very boring photos of empty streets, the slogan "Not Your Father's Fantasia Fair!" (???), and the link at the bottom that says WOW! BOOKMARK THIS PAGE!- thats what these dudes call FLAIR!

(Although not all of them seem out of place in P-town. The other night I was DJing a party in town at and these surprisingly young and stylish {think pleather and platform boots} tallships came in. After a while one came up and in a British accent said "Do you have any deep, dark, dirty House?"
I was like, "No." And they left.
Those guys would fit right in here.)

G and I watched both seasons of The Office on DVD between the last two consecutive nights. We went to bed laughing about how we never wanted to work in an office or set foot on British soil. Then I woke up this morning saying "It's right cold out, innit?" Bloody Hell.

ITS THAT REAL

ITS THAT REAL

Right now I'm reading >Speed Tribes by Karl Taro Greenfeld, which is really some amazing journalism. It's about the dark side of the new generation of Japan after the collapse of the "bubble" economy. It's 10 years old by now but hasn't aged too poorly, probably due to the precision and accuracy of the portraiture (unlike most books like this that are written by slightly out-of-touch journalists about trends that are slightly behind the curve, then by the time they are completed and on the market, it's almost already too late to matter). Look for the book and Check some new Taro Greenfeld writing on new Japan on Salon.com

This one's for Chris Devine.

They don't run the fastest. They don't jump the highest. But they sure are getting the last laugh. Heavyweights. They never met a hot dog they didn't like ... until now.

Man, I heard Minister Farakan on "News and Notes", the black culture talk radio show on NPR at Midnight. I heard a lot of people talking about what the black community needs to do for itself, but do you know what I think "News and Notes" needs to do for the black community? Change that theme music. Shit sounds like the theme from Night Court.

These are some photos i took on the O.G. digital camera i just pulled out of my closet. It's a sony Mavica that writes on floppy disk. I got it for my birthday when I was maybe 18. The screen got smashed that year at the full moon party on Koh Phangan when some tweakers were having some kind of joyous embrace and fell over onto my backpack. I tried to give them some shit but they were beyond accountability.
These were taken at Corn Hill beach, just down the road for our house in Truro. It was an unseasonably warm fall day and we went down for a walk. We were there with Che-Wei and those guys from New York the week before and wished we had brought a camera- so here are the photos we wanted to take then. On this day, too there was some kind of mass influx of bay shrimps- billions of them were washing up in waves. We couldn't even really swim becuase they were everywhere. The seagulls were loving it, though.

corn hill

pamet

Near Corn Hill Beach

G at the Pamet Harbor

This ones for all my Scrabble thugs out there: Che-Wei sent me this link to an Emergency Scrabble
board you can print on standard paper at any time. The other idea on this site are interesting too, but the layout makes no sense.

Matt Gross put me up on the best scrabble to play online via email, which can be found at BugCafe.net.
Now get at them triple word scores, ya heard?