Tag Archives: djing

sex with me… sex with me… sex with me…

the drive
six-dollar garbage
L. A.
Micah’s little lab
dropping by Federal
sunset cruise to Santa Monica
sir, this is valet only
the motel, Steve, Thai curry, the cockroach

Vator Splash
walk for oil
chillin w Tram
goodbye Santa Monica
bang

sunrise to LAX
the literati
trader joes shopping
shower?
gal palace
aerienne’s curry
rise of the jack o lanterns
staples center
the pantry
sex with me, sex with me
film shoot
martinis at Clifton

sweating, parking
Meryl the blonde tart
Clara the effortlessly beautiful
Travis the sexy handyman
back at the chicken shack
raw silk
maximum laughter, minimal consequence
scene queen
80s club (wreck 86?) speakeasy
overpass popup
gig rig piss
spurned the hip hop breeze
hot dog, malt liquor, blow

shit
ramen
dishes
video chat w love
shower
high as fuck w Fitzcarraldo

~rain~

piece of shit
part one of Anna Karenina
the Ivy
over the garden wall
finished Fitzcarraldo

fragment of shit
cacao coffee
shower
barneys beanery
smokin
little dieter needs to fly

bagels n coffee
work, work
laundry out
car wash
seat belt ticket
laundry home
yoga nap
chicken kebab election
1642
bye aerienne

moving the car asleep
cafe 50s
el matador
shower and jojoba
long lyft
a novel Thai feast
funkmosphere
double double rye, straight
bye Meryl
bye Virgil
hello j
from sleep

early morning car move again
waiting for the call
toilet call
pack fast and peace
selected ambient drive
mcds
peter gabriel
fresh fruit
bridge
SF
surprise! Continue reading

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California

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ramblin’ ron

tonight? tonight i’m going to a cave party. Continue reading

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love to love you 2013

feeling melancholy, feeling unsure about 2014. Continue reading

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panties in a brunch

yesterday, along with four other punks, i hosted a party. it took place during a sunday afternoon in the Mission and it consisted of two key elements: disco and champagne. here are some things i remember from Daft Brunch 2: Daft Bruncher.

–to make sure i didn’t completely lose my head after a couple glasses of juice, i started the day by scarfing down a greasy grilled cheese and fried egg sandwich with honey butter Brussels sprouts on the side.

–somehow, i was elected to be the first dj of the day, so i spun whatever the fuck i wanted–including Pink Floyd–for about 15 people. later on, a girl came up to me and thanked me for the Floyd, the only validation i needed, if any.

–Natalie, who was probably my first good friend to arrive, smiled her pretty face at me right before i pressed play on the last song in my first set, Boys.

–in the early party sun, under the slow-spinning disco ball, i sipped my mimosa in a lawn chair w Nick, Natalie, and James at my side, and things seemed pretty alright.

–these two or three guys were dancing like crazy, but it was so crazy that i was doubting how genuine they were. were they just trying to get a lot of attention (one of them was a tall ass white dude that didn’t need to throw his arms and legs around crazily in every direction to get attention) or were they genuinely moving their limbs because they music mad them do so? i couldn’t convince myself of the latter.

–my bro rolled up with my cuz and a mini crew with tons of beer in their arms. i laughed and welcomed them, and informed them of our $15 bottomless mimosas. they promptly returned their beer to the car and came back for mimosas and the rest of the party.

–Alison came. she looked pretty as always and her lipstick matched her dress, which i loved. her crew seemed… on edge. i simply hoped they’d drink their nerves away. i don’t think they did.

–while my mimosa was being refilled, a random girl said to me, “you have SUCH long hair. do girls like that?” “i don’t know,” i said, “do you?” though her friend laughed, she stood unfazed “actually, i know a girl who does,” she said with a winky smile. “see that blonde girl standing over there? she really loves guys w long hair… you should go talk to her.” i returned her smile and said, “you should tell her to talk to my girlfriend.” and that was that.

–my cuz passed me a much-needed blunt, so i blasted off minutes before starting my closing set w Mark.

–Deaf Goldblum dropped his favorite remix of “Freeki Motherfucker.” shit got freaky.

–Grayson came to say goodbye and then, right on cue but totally not intentionally, i dropped “Lose Yourself to Dance” as he was walking out. he was trapped for a few minutes.

–the closing set by bleego and myself creeped into darkness, and from the darkness creeped some raver kid with glowing orange poi. everyone made a circle around him and, in our large but not large enough space, that left no space for dancing. oh well. perfect time to drop some slow-starting Diana Ross, i suppose.

–Imagination, Patrice Rushen, Diana Ross, Melba Moore, Daft Punk, Carly Simon… maybe i need a new repertoire. maybe i should start spinning drum & bass… or metal.

–Sunflower phở made life worth living again.

so, what i’m trying to figure out is… why–out of six hours of partying–wasn’t there one moment more beautiful or sublime than the moment in the morning when i woke up next to my sweetheart and the moment at night where i fell asleep in her arms? Continue reading

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Good Times

in which the Hero thinks writing about a three day music weekend in blank verse is a good idea. Continue reading

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Burning Man

in which the )'( burns. Continue reading

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Quintilis

famous boobs, giant boobs, fat boobs, tiny boobs, boobs on stage, boobs in my mouth, boobs backstage, boobs all around!

so.

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many.

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boobs.

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that right there’s Jenny Lewis, the bodacious female vocal lead for the Postal Service, who i just saw perform last night at the Greek Theatre in Berkeley. decked out with giant fluffy hair, a dazzling little black dress, and white fishnets… isn’t she such a fucking rock star? her guitar work’s as sexy as she is too.

overall, i loved the show. the band made no qualms about it: everybody was there to celebrate the tenth anniversary of Give Up, the band’s only studio album. seems like just yesterday we were all in high school trying to figure out how to get laid and ace our classes with the least work possible while simultaneously deciding on where to go to college to maximize our chances of actually getting laid and acing our classes with the least work possible. oh, the frustration, the insecurity, the arrogance… and the music. while Nine Inch Nails, Tool, and Aphex Twin were the heartkillers, i always left a little bit of room for the cheesier easier shit like Broken Social Scene, the Flaming Lips, Spoon, Bright Eyes, and, of course, the Postal Service.

and last night, they did not disappoint, playing pretty much everything from that old classic album. perhaps my only criticism would be–and this is hardly something they could avoid considering the nature of the music–that half the music shot out of a computer. most of the beats and a lot of the bass, all programmed. it was like watching Ben Gibbard and Jenny Lewis sing karaoke to all their old hits. but who’s complaining?

ironically, exactly six years ago to the night–July 27, 2007–i saw two other musicians do nothing but bob their heads and poke electronic equipment at the very same venue. yup, Daft Punk. freaky coincidence, right? i went w Adam, and that was my very first time seeing the French fuckers electrifying us from atop their mystical pyramid in the fog. instant. crush.

as if that weren’t coincident enough, one of the songs that played while roadies readied the stage for the Postal Service was “Instant Crush,” off of Daft Punk’s latest. my mind just couldn’t handle all the intersections, so after that the universe switched gears and played “Pump Up the Jam.” that made a lot less sense, i was cool w that.

the night before, i went to church:

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it was my fifth time djing for the First Church of the Sacred Silversexual and my sixth time seeing them perform. and boy, they killed it. i honestly do believe they get better and better every time i see them, this time truly taking it to the next level with impeccable guitar solos, flying tits, and a great story to follow. praise be.

i especially savored this performance because i had never performed a venue quite as great as the Rickshaw Stop. it’s not actually a very big place, but it’s big enough for me to have seen both Akron/Family and (light of my life, fire of my loins) The Field perform there. so, perpetually thinking “i’m going to dj where The Field once played, i’m going to dj where The Field once played” leading up to the show, i couldn’t help but be overly excited. i think i did alright. disco, funk, and r&b all evening as promised by “Diamant, the Deacon of Funk,” glittery beard and all. beautiful beat matching there, shitty reverbery mixing there, etc etc.

friends of all sorts came out, which made everything that much better. a couple of them–Chris and Xanthe–had seen the spectacle before, but a few of them–Natalie, Morgan, Alison–were virgins bleeding diamond tears for the very first time. it was truly a glorious night.

in fact, it’s been a truly glorious month!

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last saturday, i hosted the very first house show at the orange gray! (i know, i know, it’s not as brilliant and clever and catchy as “bermuda,” but what can you do? we’re the fucking orange.) Caroline Rose… is beautiful. she and her boy ate up a third of my living room with their PA, pedals, guitars, and everything else, leaving the rest of the space for over 20 people to get cozy. it was madness. there were even people in the hallway listening to her because her guitar sucked you in, her voice captivated you, suspended you in space, while Jer’s bass or mandolin work made the floating easy. i’m so thankful her whirlwind passed through my home.

also so thankful for the earlier performers, Brendan with his guitars and Natalie with her piano. i definitely found myself rocking the hell out to a couple of Brendan’s tracks and Natalie’s piano… well… it’s Chopin. what do you think happened to my head?

but that’s not how we started partying this month, nope, nope. we started with disco:

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Daft Brunch was a success. end of story. thanks to the combined powers of Elliot (w his big, bountiful backyard full of booze), Mark (w his big, booming sound system), Andrew (w his sexy decks and mixer), and myself (w 16″ of spherical mirrors), we channeled our 100+ guests to sunny champagne heaven. disco.

and now? now this month’s coming to a close and a new one’s awaking… w mysterious treasures unseen by me. in exactly four weeks, supposedly, when the moon looks the same as it does today, i will be cruising north w my roomie and my lover toward the heart of the desert… for what? i have no idea. it will cost a lot of money and it will take a lot of planning and work and once i get there, it will be no Malibu, but i am doing it w smiles and eager expectation.

i live for today, but i love tomorrow. Continue reading

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every drink i drank last month

in total, 25 drinks, one for every year of my new age. Continue reading

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my disco days are over

Continue reading

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