Tag Archives: club


~ 0 ~
SFO in the early morning
triple couple brunch date
SFO in the afternoon
yellow fever film
SFO late at night
Japanese, Mexican, American, or Chinese?

~ 1 ~
Hank Williams on the
turbulent red-eye
flashlights in the early morning
United Club at IAD
hella babies on the
flight to Jamaica
the first Jamaican woman to speak to/about me:
“it’s not fair. he’s not even using it,”
referencing my hair
all customs agents are the same stern
accosted by taxi drivers
one is hella chill so we go w him ($15)
he walks slow as hell
“we grow up w weed”
tried to sell me some but his guy is out
Caribic House
gentleman clerk
third floor balcony view of the sea
buy weed from souvenir shop ($20 for crap)
Pork Pit
buy weed from random vagrant (J$200 for crap)

~ 2 ~
breakfast at the Mocha Cafe
Knutsford Express to Negril
buy Blue Cheese from taxi driver ($5 for quality)
Yoga Centre
stroll and smoke along the beach
the German dude
yoga in the evening
shower and drinks
Alfred’s Ocean Palace
couple drinks and cricket at the Sunrise

~ 3 ~
smoothies and breakfast at the YC
chillin on the beach
spring rolls and papaya salad
Natalie naps / Americanah
drinks at One Love bar
curried conch w rice & peas at sweet spot

~ 4 ~
goodbye YC & Negril
KE to Kingston
wild winding ride east
the big city
the Spanish Court,
free rum punch on arrival
walking in the rain to
Devon House
coffee for her, coffee i-scream for me
walking in the lightening rain
Natalie goes chic in the city
divine Indian at Nirvanna

~ 5 ~
free breakfast: eggs, platanos, festival, bacon, fruit, coffee, water
taxi drive with a former yam farmer to
the National Gallery of Jamaica
walk through saturday downtown market
taxi to the grocery
Tashanna the angel
Natalie runs on the treadmill, i walk to KE
sunset swimming in the freezing infinity pool
hot bath w love
shower the hair
dress and small dinner
last home drink
up up up the hill to
dub club
smoky dub music in the clouds
saw fireworks
and popcorn
and dancing
circles, circling back to a
champagne glass next to the drivers seat
flask of herb wine next to mine
slowly, slithering back to New Kingston
in the nighttime of a new day

~ 6 ~
free breakfast: kitchen sink omelet, fruit, coffee, water, festival, platanos, and a complimentary mimosa
walking to the banks, several failed withdrawals
packing up
waiting for Robert
red shirt, tan truck, big smile
cash out
ride up
the treehouse
the tour
the pool and trail
dinner at 6?
acki and shellfish, peas and rice, greens not calaloo
reading and drinking
scrabble in bed under the net
never ending music for a wake, then an end

~ 7 ~
wake up puffy eyed a little before 9
shirtless on the balcony
big rainbow across the sky
Chef says breakfast is on the way
coffee, scrambled eggs w veggies, fried plantains, breadfruit (looked like dry pineapple slices), slices of mango, a peeled orange, everything fresh, juicy, lovely
more coffee, Bobby and Chef smoking
driving to Holywell
the waterfall hike
smoke at the falls
kiss on the hills
walk to David’s coffee plantation
the Chinese crew, little kids giggling and playing games, the two big dogs loafing and eyeing everyone, the coffee man deeply darkened by the sun yet profoundly lightened by endless cups of coffee
walking back home
Natalie’s forgotten R1: the run
gap cafe too fancy
walk thru the military yard
flask of clear rum, water, cheese puffs, and chocolates at the bubbles stop
walk home
cold shower (Ginger on drums)
wifi, soup, and dinner (more Fela)
seafish, fried carrots and greens, potato, yams, plantains
greasy spliff
drinks and reading

~ 8 ~
up a little earlier, round 830
coffee and breakfast on the taller balcony
acki and fish, breadfruit, fried plantains, papaya, orange
reading reading reading
the ride to Craighton
the $25 tour w Jerome
280,000 coffee plants—arabica not robusta—the latter 52% of the world coffee, the former 48%—though like the #1 most traded good (oil), the #2 (coffee) is often adulterated as there’s no standard nor authority—and Blue Mountain arabica is something special, with 70% of its sales going to wealthy Japanese—Jamaicans themselves drink instant coffee—unless they’re like Robert—usually Arabica ripens in 5-7 months, in Blue Mountains it takes 9-11—juicier, sweeter—Twyman and other north side farmers get less sun so their harvest is shorter
three cups of coffee after the lesson
walk to red light
bananas and coconut snack from the roadside rasta
walk from red light
Natalie loses her shades
hitching a ride w the 33 year old who spent 20 years living in Kingston before moving to London, comes back to visit family every xmas, warned us of the dangers of hitch hiking
eits cafe
walking up and a ride w David, bobby’s coz
walking to prince valley
glasses for a drink and phone
meeting, laughing, smoking w omero from Oakland and Tazia from near Kingston
drinks and dinner: beans, greens, and pumpkin rice, perfection
beer and adieu
reading, reading, hearts, reading

~ 9 ~
up a little earlier, around 815
Ovid on the balcony
coffee and breakfast in the usual spot
acki and fish, plantains, coco bread
packing up and paying
dj dale down the mountain
bob Marley museum
best dinner (fried chicken, beef stew, pork stew, or curried goat?) plus rum
two wedding episodes of friends

~ 10 ~
coffee, toast, and fruit on the balcony
Mahogany Beach
food and drink on James (same menu)
crazy dance boat party TV
Turtle Beach
souvenir shopping i
drinks on James
moms restaurant (fish stew)

~ 11 ~
coffee, toast, and fruit on the balcony
souvenir shopping ii
passage to passage to India (naan, South Indian chicken, chicken tikka masala)
chilling at KE
KE to Mo Bay
El Greco, cocktail on arrival
cocktails and joint on the balcony (Half Pint)
bellboy escort to room, J$400
atm, the old walk
1/2 lb ribs at pork pit
the walk back
another round

~ 12 ~
up around 8
finished Herzog
breakfast: one American, one Jamaican (mine is fried fish, greens, small banana, yucca, dumpling, and Nat’s French toast)
old white retired everywhere
blacks go J, whites go A
down to the street, rum up
packing, Brilliant Corners, checking out
smoke on the cliff side
delayed flight
walk down to the park shade
bk fries
taxi to airport
lines, lines, food court, hearts
exit row flight
chaos at CLT Continue reading

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favorite “new” singles of 2010

Donna Summer – “I Feel Love” (1977)

ooh… i feel love i feel love i feel love i feel love i feel love….. consider me an official convert of the Church of Bellotte, Moroder, and Summer, because this shit is seriously the meaning of life and death right here. singing, moaning lovely, simple poetry over a repetitive, thumping synth line that could have come out yesterday, Donna Summer proved to me in just under six minutes why she is called the Queen of Disco. said David Bowie in 1989: “One day in Berlin … Eno came running in and said, ‘I have heard the sound of the future.’ … he puts on ‘I Feel Love’, by Donna Summer … He said, ‘This is it, look no further. This single is going to change the sound of club music for the next fifteen years.’ Which was more or less right.”

Carly Simon – “Why” (1982)

before 2010, all i knew about Carly Simon was that she was some alright white chick from my parent’s time that made one popular song which my favorite band from high school managed to incorporate pretty interestingly into my least favorite song by them. oh, but now, she is so much more. i think during the summer, Stalker posted a YouTube link to this song on his Facebook, and i am so fucking glad i caught it. it’s eight minutes of Simon singing “why. does your love. hurt so much. don’t know why.” over the most bombastic drum and bassline of all fucking time, highlighted by colorful keys in dub rhythm. what. the. fuck. it goes on forever, it sounds the same the whole song through, but it never gets old. fucking blast it.

Grandmaster Flash & the Furious Five – “The Message” (1982)

this track needs no introduction. well, it shouldn’t. but it took me until january 2010 to discover this musical gold. “don’t push me ’cause i’m close to the edge, i’m trying not to to lose my head. it’s like a jungle sometimes it makes me wonder how i keep from going under.” and quite possibly the most superb beat ever produced. or at least the first (this shit preceded Dr. Dre’s chronic tunes by a decade!) i hardly give a shit that he’s rapping about something “real” because i’m too busy bobbing my head in sonic ecstasy. i think i’m seeing a trend here. i like my singles to be BASSY.

Boney M. – “Rasputin” (1978)

god look at all those sparkles on that album art; Music & Lights, that’s where it’s at. so where Grandmaster Flash sung about the hard-knock street life, Boney M. sings about… a Russian mystical legend named Rasputin, in the silliest way possible. i’m really not sure if these guys had any other hits, but it doesn’t really matter because “Rasputin” has everything: delicious disco beat (based on a Turkish folk song), male and female duet, a chorus that you can’t not sing along to, and motherfucking handclaps. hey! hey! hey! hey! hey! hey! hey! hey! let’s fucking rebel against the system! and fucking dance at the same time!

Thieves Like Us – “Drugs in My Body” (2007)

okay, i’ll just throw this out there. maybe, just maybe, i wouldn’t love this song so much if Jacob hadn’t thrown it on while i was on the peak of my very first roll. oh god i’m so glad he did though. i was a free-floating space effigy, representing everything horrible in the world, and i was fucking burning. burning burning burning burning and dancing like a desert phantom with mind-altering ice cubes melting at a million miles per second in the palms of my hands. “go downtown with the drugs in my body, step back up i’m the life of the party, come back home and we’ll get something started, stay up late put some heat in my heartache.” yup.

Panda Bear – “Drone” (2010)

i’m starting to think that singles even more than albums draw their power from nostalgia. this was the very first song i heard Panda Bear perform live. Andrew D. mailed me his Pitchfork ticket, i hopped on a plane for free with my mom’s passes, flew to Ontario (a nice place to potentially get “stranded”), flew to Chicago, took the L downtown, walked into Union Park with a backpack carrying a couple days of clothes and sunglasses hiding yesterday’s ophthalmologist attack on my eyes, walked up to Noah’s stage (after securing an actual roof to sleep under [love you, Nora & Erin]), bummed a puff from some kids, and bowed to the awesome unintelligible sublimity that is “Drone.”

Donna Summer – “Love to Love You Baby” (1975)

ohh… love to love you baby… sound familiar? yes, it’s Miss Summer singing about how lovely love is, but this time she does it for seventeen minutes (the version above is a ridiculous three minutes, so unfortunate), and instead of doing it over a track that is the future of music, she does it over the music that fits the era better–smooth, funky disco perfection. half the time you can’t tell whether she’s singing or orgasming. (Wikipedia said the idea at first made her uncomfortable, naturally enough.) half the time you can’t tell whether you’re listening to music or orgasming. i wonder what it’s like to have sex to this song…

Four Tet – “Love Cry” (2009)

nine minutes of crying, “Love Cry.” i played this for a friend who knew and enjoyed Four Tet’s older material, but to this he said something like, “what is this dancy house bullshit?” oh yes, all electronic musicians must bow down to the Great Disco Ball in the sky at some point in their careers, it is inevitable. i first downloaded this when it was released at the end of 2009, was reminded of it at senior week in San Diego, and it cemented itself in my soul at Treasure Island, when Kieran Hebden performed it as the San Francisco sun set behind the city, leaving only cold and clouds. Love Cry… Love Cry.. Love Cry.. Love Cry..

Panda Bear – “Tomboy” (2010)

i’ve come to realize that i am (at least) a complete sucker for two qualities in music. one, music about music. two, Minimalism. now, “Tomboy” is probably even closer to just plain old rock than the ~Minimalist work i mentioned in my last post, Fly Pan Am, but if you just focus on the guitar portion of the song, you might see what i’m seeing. first chord first measure, second chord second measure, third chord strum for four measures. repeat. it’s as if the first two chords are flight preparation and the third chord is the spiral into infinity. listen to it loud on headphones. i’m a stoner and i can’t fucking wait for Panda Bear’s LP to come out this year.

The Toyes – “Smoke Two Joints” (1983)

you didn’t really think Sublime wrote their own music, did you? just kidding. i’m going to spare you the WHICH IS BETTER THE COVER OR THE ORIGINAL? argument (though, for the record, i ordinarily prefer the original), but this version of probably the best stupidest smoking anthem ever is just undeniable reggay goodness. gone is the Reefer Madness sample, gone are the endless bong rips, gone are the turntable scratches, all that’s left is sincere stoned singing and a rocking band burning happily for a few minutes. now i just want someone to tell me why Sublime cut quite possibly the greatest lyric from their cover: “i smoke two joints when i play video games and at every 10,000 points (i smoke two joints).” Continue reading

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