Um.
Hell.
Yes.
CUTENESS!
HOTNESS!
HILARIOUSNESS!
AWESOMENESS!
I've got a looooooooooooooooot of demons that Bruce could go ahead and exorcise. Anywhere he wants. GROWL! QUACK! GROWL!
Showing posts with label Bruce Springsteen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bruce Springsteen. Show all posts
Friday, October 31, 2008
HAPPY HALLOWIENERSTEEN!
Um.
Hell.
Yes.
CUTENESS!
HOTNESS!
HILARIOUSNESS!
AWESOMENESS!
I've got a looooooooooooooooot of demons that Bruce could go ahead and exorcise. Anywhere he wants. GROWL! QUACK! GROWL!
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Put that in the Spank Bank...
Ummmm...I just saw these photos from Bruce's guest appearance at the Social D show...ummm...UMMMMMM...AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME!
Mark R. Sullivan, the photographer AKA my new hero!
Mark R. Sullivan, thank you endlessly! If Jason Isbell flew in from the ceiling, with the Jersey shore sand still lightly in his hair, that would basically make it my distorted holy trinity of today. THANK YOU FOR THESE RAD SHOTS!
Le sigh, BIG TIME!
Mark R. Sullivan, the photographer AKA my new hero!
Mark R. Sullivan, thank you endlessly! If Jason Isbell flew in from the ceiling, with the Jersey shore sand still lightly in his hair, that would basically make it my distorted holy trinity of today. THANK YOU FOR THESE RAD SHOTS!
Le sigh, BIG TIME!
Monday, May 19, 2008
Danny.
I wrote this following segment the day I learned of Danny Federici's death, on April 17, 2008. I kept meaning to expand on this but never could. So I post it as is because I want to put it out there.
Last week, I worked a Dental Convention at Xcel. For three days, I woke up at 5am to take a nauseatingly early bus to St. Paul. I left almost every day crying, overwhelmed with boredom and exhaustion. I had spent ten hours printing off nametags for dentists, dental assistants, dental hygenists, dental spouses, dental kids. With a sassy black woman munching ginger snaps on one side and hyper annoying RenFester for life coughing up phlegm on the other, between almost every page of Kitchen Confidential and Pedal Pusher, I stared out the window of the RiverCentre as the same image played over and over again in my head.
I saw our car pulling into the lot across the street. I saw all of us inside that car, busting out of the Honda and dancing across the street, me inevitably wailing the wrong lyrics to my favorite songs. I saw us standing in those lines for the wristband, eating greasy bar food and drinking cold beer in the soft summer spring fall blistering winter light, nervously fidgeting until the pit number was drawn. Running in as only a herd of middle class white honkies could. Securing our spot as close to the stage as we could get, amongst our people, all of us chattering away as we waited to be baptized by these sweaty waters of rock’n’roll.
I spent ten hours watching cars pull into that lot and not one of them was the Honda. I spent my breaks crawling in between a secret stash of shut down soda machines I found in a dark corner of the convention center, clutching my phone as I alternately called Sha and Tabatha. Because I needed two people that had been with me for a long time, had seen the best and worst of me, had danced with me at shows, had screamed lyrics with me. Two people I had grown up with, surrounded by music.
Being at Xcel for ten hours and not having a Bruce Springsteen concert at the end of the day was just hard. Instead, I felt sorry for myself, I’ve barely been able to take photos, write, and for awhile even get my ass up to go to shows. Without that, I honestly feel like nothing.
Today, WonderTwin, an E Street sister, woke up me up to tell me that Danny Federici had died. Bruce’s E Street brother, his band-mate and close friend for over forty years, a legend for so many people. The Phantom. The little monkey man with giant blue eyes who played an absolutely fierce accordian and keyboard.
I have spent the past three weeks, seven months, twenty-six years perfecting the art of enthusiasm, on a constant quest to make the most out of my life. Sometimes, I feel very young. When I talked to Jim today, and he once again referenced how they were dropping like flies, I realized I am young, definitely too young to grasp that cynicism. Too me, even though he had cancer, he was supposed to live forever...or at the very least long enough to grow REALLY old with his family and his friends, with his music.
I don’t know what my life would be without this music. What grabbed me from that first instant were the lyrics. What kept me every day after that, for the past seven years, was the passion on and off the stage…that palpable connection between me and my insides, me and my mom, me and my closest friends, me and my hero, me and thousands of other freaks for this rock’n’roll giant that is and always be Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band.
When you are at those shows, you can't help but feel this insane amount of love. They play for themselves, for each other and for us. And it's an amazing gift that will continue to live as long as we continue to relish in every single recording Danny stood next to Bruce, his Jersey brother forever.
Danny...you'll ALWAYS be the man!
In the past month, a lot has changed. Spring is here. Once again, I can't sit still. I'm getting a lot of great photography opportunities that keep me insanely busy. And I've been surrounding myself with family, friends and lots of music. It's really good.
Last week, I worked a Dental Convention at Xcel. For three days, I woke up at 5am to take a nauseatingly early bus to St. Paul. I left almost every day crying, overwhelmed with boredom and exhaustion. I had spent ten hours printing off nametags for dentists, dental assistants, dental hygenists, dental spouses, dental kids. With a sassy black woman munching ginger snaps on one side and hyper annoying RenFester for life coughing up phlegm on the other, between almost every page of Kitchen Confidential and Pedal Pusher, I stared out the window of the RiverCentre as the same image played over and over again in my head.
I saw our car pulling into the lot across the street. I saw all of us inside that car, busting out of the Honda and dancing across the street, me inevitably wailing the wrong lyrics to my favorite songs. I saw us standing in those lines for the wristband, eating greasy bar food and drinking cold beer in the soft summer spring fall blistering winter light, nervously fidgeting until the pit number was drawn. Running in as only a herd of middle class white honkies could. Securing our spot as close to the stage as we could get, amongst our people, all of us chattering away as we waited to be baptized by these sweaty waters of rock’n’roll.
I spent ten hours watching cars pull into that lot and not one of them was the Honda. I spent my breaks crawling in between a secret stash of shut down soda machines I found in a dark corner of the convention center, clutching my phone as I alternately called Sha and Tabatha. Because I needed two people that had been with me for a long time, had seen the best and worst of me, had danced with me at shows, had screamed lyrics with me. Two people I had grown up with, surrounded by music.
Being at Xcel for ten hours and not having a Bruce Springsteen concert at the end of the day was just hard. Instead, I felt sorry for myself, I’ve barely been able to take photos, write, and for awhile even get my ass up to go to shows. Without that, I honestly feel like nothing.
Today, WonderTwin, an E Street sister, woke up me up to tell me that Danny Federici had died. Bruce’s E Street brother, his band-mate and close friend for over forty years, a legend for so many people. The Phantom. The little monkey man with giant blue eyes who played an absolutely fierce accordian and keyboard.
I have spent the past three weeks, seven months, twenty-six years perfecting the art of enthusiasm, on a constant quest to make the most out of my life. Sometimes, I feel very young. When I talked to Jim today, and he once again referenced how they were dropping like flies, I realized I am young, definitely too young to grasp that cynicism. Too me, even though he had cancer, he was supposed to live forever...or at the very least long enough to grow REALLY old with his family and his friends, with his music.
I don’t know what my life would be without this music. What grabbed me from that first instant were the lyrics. What kept me every day after that, for the past seven years, was the passion on and off the stage…that palpable connection between me and my insides, me and my mom, me and my closest friends, me and my hero, me and thousands of other freaks for this rock’n’roll giant that is and always be Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band.
When you are at those shows, you can't help but feel this insane amount of love. They play for themselves, for each other and for us. And it's an amazing gift that will continue to live as long as we continue to relish in every single recording Danny stood next to Bruce, his Jersey brother forever.
Danny...you'll ALWAYS be the man!
In the past month, a lot has changed. Spring is here. Once again, I can't sit still. I'm getting a lot of great photography opportunities that keep me insanely busy. And I've been surrounding myself with family, friends and lots of music. It's really good.
Man oh man, I wish I was there...
DREAM COME MOTHERF*CKING TRUE!
From backstreets...
ASBURY PARK SOCIAL CLUB
Springsteen and Social D's Mike Ness rock the Stone Pony
On Saturday night, or the second of two Mike Ness shows at the Pony, the Social Disortion frontman was joined on stage by his friend (and longtime fan) Bruce Springsteen. After watching the show from the soundboard, Springsteen joined in for a four-song encore. As Linda tells us, there was "'Misery Loves Company,' the song they did together on Mike's 1999 solo CD, Cheating at Solitaire. Then they did my favorite Social D. song, 'Ball and Chain,' but instead of sticking to the original rocking version, they did it as a slow, country ballad. Bruce sang the second verse, and the crowd went nuts. Next was a 'If You Leave Before Me,' from Cheating at Solitaire, followed by a fun 'I Fought the Law.' What was really cool was seeing the excitement and giddiness of Social D. fans after the show. Most of these fans are guys in their 20s -- tattoos, pierced body parts, part hardcore punk/part rockabilly, and their hot Bettie Page-type girlfriends. They were so happy and excited, and I heard them saying, 'Man, nothing gets better than this!' and 'Wow, can you believe it? How frickin' amazing was that?!'" As Ness asked the crowd, "Aren't you guys glad you came the second night?" [Correction: Ness performed Dylan's "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right" without Springsteen]
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
Basically, it goes like this. Because of my obsession with Bruce, I discovered Marah. Because of my obsession with Marah, I discovered Drive-By Truckers. Because of my obsession with Drive-By Truckers, I discovered Social Distotion.
At one time or another, for a long time, those bands meant the world to me. In two of those cases, sh*t went down and favorite members left/were forced to leave (who will ever really know? And yes just last week I was day dreaming about the awesomeness of Jason Isbell and my summer concert in Kansas City. And just last week I was creating a rock'n'roll poster of a bunch of my shots, which shall be displayed shortly, and I didn't include any of Marah...because it just isn't the same any more. When the corner square reads "There are pictures of her heroes on the wall", how could I?) Bruce is obviously still mon numero une and I'm still super stoked to FINALLY see sans Isbell Truckers at First Ave.
And then there's Social D...a band an old roommate told me years agoI should REALLY listen to cause I was such a Trucker fan. And I fell instantly in love. This music soothed me whenever I felt like ramming my little Honda right into the A-hole in front of me! Cause I would scream along with Mike Ness and all seemed well again!
Then I saw them live, by myself, and it was one of the top 10 non Bruce live shows of my life. I fought to stay in the moshing crowd, pressed against the pole at the Quest to steady myself, danced so hard that I ruined my neon roos, and relished in the cool beer that was being poured on us so we didn't overheat. It was disgusting. And amazing. And just as awesome the next time round too.
When I realize that my ultimate musical hero is a friend and longtime fan of another musical hero of mine, it warms my heart. And somehow makes so much of what I love come full circle and connect.
Because really it was just two dudes jamming on a stage together. Seriously, how awesome is that?!?!
F*cking RAD! I wonder if they go shopping for black clothes together?
(That Bruce video is sort of nauseatingly raw...motion sickness...but also one of the best videos I've seen that portrays what it's like to really be at one of those shows, in the midst of that crowd.)
From backstreets...
ASBURY PARK SOCIAL CLUB
Springsteen and Social D's Mike Ness rock the Stone Pony
On Saturday night, or the second of two Mike Ness shows at the Pony, the Social Disortion frontman was joined on stage by his friend (and longtime fan) Bruce Springsteen. After watching the show from the soundboard, Springsteen joined in for a four-song encore. As Linda tells us, there was "'Misery Loves Company,' the song they did together on Mike's 1999 solo CD, Cheating at Solitaire. Then they did my favorite Social D. song, 'Ball and Chain,' but instead of sticking to the original rocking version, they did it as a slow, country ballad. Bruce sang the second verse, and the crowd went nuts. Next was a 'If You Leave Before Me,' from Cheating at Solitaire, followed by a fun 'I Fought the Law.' What was really cool was seeing the excitement and giddiness of Social D. fans after the show. Most of these fans are guys in their 20s -- tattoos, pierced body parts, part hardcore punk/part rockabilly, and their hot Bettie Page-type girlfriends. They were so happy and excited, and I heard them saying, 'Man, nothing gets better than this!' and 'Wow, can you believe it? How frickin' amazing was that?!'" As Ness asked the crowd, "Aren't you guys glad you came the second night?" [Correction: Ness performed Dylan's "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right" without Springsteen]
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
Basically, it goes like this. Because of my obsession with Bruce, I discovered Marah. Because of my obsession with Marah, I discovered Drive-By Truckers. Because of my obsession with Drive-By Truckers, I discovered Social Distotion.
At one time or another, for a long time, those bands meant the world to me. In two of those cases, sh*t went down and favorite members left/were forced to leave (who will ever really know? And yes just last week I was day dreaming about the awesomeness of Jason Isbell and my summer concert in Kansas City. And just last week I was creating a rock'n'roll poster of a bunch of my shots, which shall be displayed shortly, and I didn't include any of Marah...because it just isn't the same any more. When the corner square reads "There are pictures of her heroes on the wall", how could I?) Bruce is obviously still mon numero une and I'm still super stoked to FINALLY see sans Isbell Truckers at First Ave.
And then there's Social D...a band an old roommate told me years agoI should REALLY listen to cause I was such a Trucker fan. And I fell instantly in love. This music soothed me whenever I felt like ramming my little Honda right into the A-hole in front of me! Cause I would scream along with Mike Ness and all seemed well again!
Then I saw them live, by myself, and it was one of the top 10 non Bruce live shows of my life. I fought to stay in the moshing crowd, pressed against the pole at the Quest to steady myself, danced so hard that I ruined my neon roos, and relished in the cool beer that was being poured on us so we didn't overheat. It was disgusting. And amazing. And just as awesome the next time round too.
When I realize that my ultimate musical hero is a friend and longtime fan of another musical hero of mine, it warms my heart. And somehow makes so much of what I love come full circle and connect.
Because really it was just two dudes jamming on a stage together. Seriously, how awesome is that?!?!
F*cking RAD! I wonder if they go shopping for black clothes together?
(That Bruce video is sort of nauseatingly raw...motion sickness...but also one of the best videos I've seen that portrays what it's like to really be at one of those shows, in the midst of that crowd.)
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Radio Nowhere: THIS IS THE SH*T!
Holy CRAP! Check out the 23 second point on the far right...yep, that's correct...that's Mama Jones, me & WonderTwin Jen right against the stage in front of Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band. I'm crying...that I am sure of. I can't exactly pinpoint it but Radio Nowhere just makes me cry. I love this song and I need to stop apologizing for that...because, to me, it's a great fucking pop song. They're happy tears! This song just makes me jump and dance and of all the songs from Magic, this is the song I can listen to over and over again. My ears, my eyes, my heart, my feet just LOVE it!
Christ almighty this video RULES! I love the vantage point! I love that you can see Bruce's ass! I love that my family is all wrapped up in the joy!
Coming down from these experiences is never ever easy. It shouldn't be. They are seriously the best times of my life!
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Totally Obsessed with Bruce Springsteen
In lieu of the fact that in less than two weeks, I will be back with Bruce Springsteen live and in person, I finally compiled a list of every place and every song I have ever seen Bruce perform live.
8/30/02 St. Louis, MO - Savvis Center - The Rising Tour
10/3/03 Flushing, NY - Shea Stadium - The Rising Tour
10/4/03 Flushing, NY - Shea Stadium - The Rising Tour
10/3/04 Detroit, MI - Cobo Arena - Vote for Change Tour
10/5/04 St. Paul, MN - Xcel Energy Center - Vote For Change Tour
5/10/05 St. Paul, MN - Xcel Energy Center - Devils and Dust Tour
5/11/05 Chicago, IL - Rosemont Theatre - Devils and Dust Tour
8/7/05 Milwaukee, WI - Bradley Center - Devils and Dust Tour
10/12/05 Minneapolis, MN - Northrom Auditorium - Devils and Dust Tour
10/13/05 Chicago, IL - United Center - Devils and Dust Tour
10/15/05 Madison, WI - Alliant Energy Center - Devils and Dust Tour
6/11/06 St. Paul, MN - Xcel Energy Center - Seeger Sessions Tour
6/13/06 Tinley Park, IL - First Midwest Bank Amphitheatre - Seeger Sessions Tour
11/2/07 St. Paul, MN - Xcel Energy Center - Magic Tour
The number next to the song indicates how many times I have seen it performed live (yep...I am a total dork.) Here we go...
A Good Man is Hard to Find 1
Across the Border 1
Ain't Got You 4
All Along the Watchtower 1 (with Neil Young)
All I'm Thinkin' About 3
All That Heaven Will Allow 2
American Land 1
Another Thin Line 2
Atlantic City 2
Back In Your Arms 3
Bad Day 2 (with REM)
Badlands 6
Because the Night 4 (twice with Michael Stipe)
Blinded By the Light 1
Blood Brothers 1
Bobby Jean 3
Book of Dreams 1
Born in the U.S.A. 4
Born to Run 6 (twice with Mike Mills and Peter Buck)
Brilliant Disguise 1
Bring Them Home 2
Buffalo Gals 2
Candy's Room 1
Centerfield 2 (both with John Fogerty)
Code of Silence 1
Countin' on a Miracle 1
Dancing in the Dark 5
Darkness on the Edge of Town 2
Deja Vu All Over Again 2 (both with John Fogerty)
Devils & Dust 6
Devils Arcade 1
Does this Bust Stop at 82nd Street? 1
Downbound Train 1
Dream Baby Dream 5
Empty Sky 5
Erie Canal 1
Eyes on the Prize 2
For You 1
Fortunate Son 2 (both with John Fogerty)
Frankie 1
Further On (Up the Road) 5
Girls in Their Summer Clothes 1
Glory Days 1
Growin' Up 3
Gypsy Biker 1
Highway 29 1
Highway 61 Revisited 1 (with Bob Dylan)
Highway Patrolman 1
How Can a Poor Man Stand Such Times and Live? 2
I Wanna Marry You 1
I Wish I Were Blind 2
I'm on Fire 1
Idiot's Delight 3
If I Should Fall Behind 2
Incident on 57th Street 3 (solo twice, full band once...yep, it matters)
Into the Fire 4
Jacob's Ladder 2
Janey Don't Lose Your Heart 1
Jesse James 2
Jesus Was an Only Son 6
John Henry 2
Johnny 99 7
Land of Hope and Dreams 5
Last to Die 1
Leah 3
Light of Day 1
Livin' in the Future 1
Living Proof 1
Lonesome Day 7
Long Black Veil 2
Long Time Comin' 6
Long Walk Home 1
Lost in the Flood 1
Magic 1
Man on the Moon 2 (both with REM)
Maria's Bed 2
Mary's Place 5
Metamoros Banks 6
Mrs. McGrath 2
My Beautiful Reward 2
My Best Was Never Good Enough 2
My City of Ruins 3
My Father's House 1
My Oklahoma Home 2
Nebraska 3
New York City Serenade 1
Night 2
No Surrender 3
Nothing Man 2
O Mary Don't You Weep 2
Old Dan Tucker 2
One Step Up 1
Open All Night 3
Paradise 2
Part Man, Part Monkey 2
Pay Me My Money Down 2
People Have the Power 2 (both with Bright Eyes, REM, John Fogerty, Neil and Pegi Young, once with Dixie Chicks as well)
Pink Cadillac 1
Point Blank 1
Proud Mary 1 (with John Fogerty)
Prove It All Night 3
Quarter to Three 1
Racing in the Street 2
Radio Nowhere 1
Rag Mama Rag 1
Ramrod 2
Reason to Believe 5
Rendezvous 1
Reno 6
Rockin' in the Free World 1 (with REM, John Fogerty, Neil and Pegi Young)
Rosalita 2
Roulette 2
Seven Nights to Rock 2
She's the One 1
Shut Out the Light 1
Silver Palomino 2
Souls of the Departed 2 (once with Neil Young)
State Trooper 2
The Fuse 1
The Hitter 3
The Line 1
The New Timer 3
The Promised Land 10 (twice with John Fogerty)
The Rising 12
The River 3
The Star-Spangled Banner 2
The Ties That Bind 4
This Hard Land 1
Thunder Road 3
Tougher Than the Rest 1
Travelin' Band 1 (with John Fogerty)
Tunnel of Love 1
Twist and Shout 2
Two Hearts 1
Valentine's Day 1
Waitin' on a Sunny Day 3
We Shall Overcome 2
(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love, and Understanding 2 (both with with Bright Eyes, REM, John Fogerty, Neil and Pegi Young)
When the Saints Go Marching In 2
When You're Alone 1
Wild Billy's Circus Story 1
Working on the Highway 1
Worlds Apart 1
Wreck on the Highway 1
You Can Look (But You Better Not Touch) 2
You're Missing 2
Your Own Worst Enemy 1
Youngstown 2
I have seen Bruce 14 times in concert.
I have seen Bruce in 9 different cities.
I have seen Bruce sing 340 songs.
I have seen Bruce sing 148 different songs.
I have seen Bruce sing 33 covers.
I have seen Bruce play The Rising 12 times, which the song I have heard the most live.
I have seen Bruce on 5 different tours (every single tour since I had my Bruce Springsteen moment seven years ago.)
I have seen Bruce play the most on the Devils and Dust tour (6 times...which is ironic considering I didn't even like that album, except for Jesus Was An Only Son...yes, they were still absolutely beautiful shows.)
I have seen Bruce play with the E Street Band, the Seeger Sessions Band and solo.
I have seen Bruce play with special guests Al Leiter, Jon Landeau, Willie Nile, Gary U.S. Bonds, Bob Dylan, Garland Jeffreys, Bright Eyes, the Dixie Chicks, R.E.M., John Fogerty, Neil Young and Pegi Young.
I have cried at all 14 Bruce shows AT LEAST once.
I, Mary Alexandra Jones, am totally obsessed with Bruce Springsteen.
It's just astounding that these Bruce shows always seem to come when I need them the most. It's also astounding that I have seen both Silver Palimino and Part Man, Part Monkey multiple times and have NEVER SEEN JUNGLELAND! Two chances, Brucey, to make it up to me...
St. Paul and Milwaukee...Mama Jones is coming up from KC, MO for both shows and my WonderTwin is traveling to both as well. I'll get to rock out with most of the Minnesotan rock'n'roll rats, Jake and Justin (my long time Bruce brothers), downattheresevoir and her sis, windycitydarling, her husband and her 20 year old son (a Bruce virgin), Cline (an awesomely perverted I think maybe Republican)...I can't wait to be back together with my people, screaming, dancing and sobbing!
BRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCE!
8/30/02 St. Louis, MO - Savvis Center - The Rising Tour
10/3/03 Flushing, NY - Shea Stadium - The Rising Tour
10/4/03 Flushing, NY - Shea Stadium - The Rising Tour
10/3/04 Detroit, MI - Cobo Arena - Vote for Change Tour
10/5/04 St. Paul, MN - Xcel Energy Center - Vote For Change Tour
5/10/05 St. Paul, MN - Xcel Energy Center - Devils and Dust Tour
5/11/05 Chicago, IL - Rosemont Theatre - Devils and Dust Tour
8/7/05 Milwaukee, WI - Bradley Center - Devils and Dust Tour
10/12/05 Minneapolis, MN - Northrom Auditorium - Devils and Dust Tour
10/13/05 Chicago, IL - United Center - Devils and Dust Tour
10/15/05 Madison, WI - Alliant Energy Center - Devils and Dust Tour
6/11/06 St. Paul, MN - Xcel Energy Center - Seeger Sessions Tour
6/13/06 Tinley Park, IL - First Midwest Bank Amphitheatre - Seeger Sessions Tour
11/2/07 St. Paul, MN - Xcel Energy Center - Magic Tour
The number next to the song indicates how many times I have seen it performed live (yep...I am a total dork.) Here we go...
A Good Man is Hard to Find 1
Across the Border 1
Ain't Got You 4
All Along the Watchtower 1 (with Neil Young)
All I'm Thinkin' About 3
All That Heaven Will Allow 2
American Land 1
Another Thin Line 2
Atlantic City 2
Back In Your Arms 3
Bad Day 2 (with REM)
Badlands 6
Because the Night 4 (twice with Michael Stipe)
Blinded By the Light 1
Blood Brothers 1
Bobby Jean 3
Book of Dreams 1
Born in the U.S.A. 4
Born to Run 6 (twice with Mike Mills and Peter Buck)
Brilliant Disguise 1
Bring Them Home 2
Buffalo Gals 2
Candy's Room 1
Centerfield 2 (both with John Fogerty)
Code of Silence 1
Countin' on a Miracle 1
Dancing in the Dark 5
Darkness on the Edge of Town 2
Deja Vu All Over Again 2 (both with John Fogerty)
Devils & Dust 6
Devils Arcade 1
Does this Bust Stop at 82nd Street? 1
Downbound Train 1
Dream Baby Dream 5
Empty Sky 5
Erie Canal 1
Eyes on the Prize 2
For You 1
Fortunate Son 2 (both with John Fogerty)
Frankie 1
Further On (Up the Road) 5
Girls in Their Summer Clothes 1
Glory Days 1
Growin' Up 3
Gypsy Biker 1
Highway 29 1
Highway 61 Revisited 1 (with Bob Dylan)
Highway Patrolman 1
How Can a Poor Man Stand Such Times and Live? 2
I Wanna Marry You 1
I Wish I Were Blind 2
I'm on Fire 1
Idiot's Delight 3
If I Should Fall Behind 2
Incident on 57th Street 3 (solo twice, full band once...yep, it matters)
Into the Fire 4
Jacob's Ladder 2
Janey Don't Lose Your Heart 1
Jesse James 2
Jesus Was an Only Son 6
John Henry 2
Johnny 99 7
Land of Hope and Dreams 5
Last to Die 1
Leah 3
Light of Day 1
Livin' in the Future 1
Living Proof 1
Lonesome Day 7
Long Black Veil 2
Long Time Comin' 6
Long Walk Home 1
Lost in the Flood 1
Magic 1
Man on the Moon 2 (both with REM)
Maria's Bed 2
Mary's Place 5
Metamoros Banks 6
Mrs. McGrath 2
My Beautiful Reward 2
My Best Was Never Good Enough 2
My City of Ruins 3
My Father's House 1
My Oklahoma Home 2
Nebraska 3
New York City Serenade 1
Night 2
No Surrender 3
Nothing Man 2
O Mary Don't You Weep 2
Old Dan Tucker 2
One Step Up 1
Open All Night 3
Paradise 2
Part Man, Part Monkey 2
Pay Me My Money Down 2
People Have the Power 2 (both with Bright Eyes, REM, John Fogerty, Neil and Pegi Young, once with Dixie Chicks as well)
Pink Cadillac 1
Point Blank 1
Proud Mary 1 (with John Fogerty)
Prove It All Night 3
Quarter to Three 1
Racing in the Street 2
Radio Nowhere 1
Rag Mama Rag 1
Ramrod 2
Reason to Believe 5
Rendezvous 1
Reno 6
Rockin' in the Free World 1 (with REM, John Fogerty, Neil and Pegi Young)
Rosalita 2
Roulette 2
Seven Nights to Rock 2
She's the One 1
Shut Out the Light 1
Silver Palomino 2
Souls of the Departed 2 (once with Neil Young)
State Trooper 2
The Fuse 1
The Hitter 3
The Line 1
The New Timer 3
The Promised Land 10 (twice with John Fogerty)
The Rising 12
The River 3
The Star-Spangled Banner 2
The Ties That Bind 4
This Hard Land 1
Thunder Road 3
Tougher Than the Rest 1
Travelin' Band 1 (with John Fogerty)
Tunnel of Love 1
Twist and Shout 2
Two Hearts 1
Valentine's Day 1
Waitin' on a Sunny Day 3
We Shall Overcome 2
(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love, and Understanding 2 (both with with Bright Eyes, REM, John Fogerty, Neil and Pegi Young)
When the Saints Go Marching In 2
When You're Alone 1
Wild Billy's Circus Story 1
Working on the Highway 1
Worlds Apart 1
Wreck on the Highway 1
You Can Look (But You Better Not Touch) 2
You're Missing 2
Your Own Worst Enemy 1
Youngstown 2
I have seen Bruce 14 times in concert.
I have seen Bruce in 9 different cities.
I have seen Bruce sing 340 songs.
I have seen Bruce sing 148 different songs.
I have seen Bruce sing 33 covers.
I have seen Bruce play The Rising 12 times, which the song I have heard the most live.
I have seen Bruce on 5 different tours (every single tour since I had my Bruce Springsteen moment seven years ago.)
I have seen Bruce play the most on the Devils and Dust tour (6 times...which is ironic considering I didn't even like that album, except for Jesus Was An Only Son...yes, they were still absolutely beautiful shows.)
I have seen Bruce play with the E Street Band, the Seeger Sessions Band and solo.
I have seen Bruce play with special guests Al Leiter, Jon Landeau, Willie Nile, Gary U.S. Bonds, Bob Dylan, Garland Jeffreys, Bright Eyes, the Dixie Chicks, R.E.M., John Fogerty, Neil Young and Pegi Young.
I have cried at all 14 Bruce shows AT LEAST once.
I, Mary Alexandra Jones, am totally obsessed with Bruce Springsteen.
It's just astounding that these Bruce shows always seem to come when I need them the most. It's also astounding that I have seen both Silver Palimino and Part Man, Part Monkey multiple times and have NEVER SEEN JUNGLELAND! Two chances, Brucey, to make it up to me...
St. Paul and Milwaukee...Mama Jones is coming up from KC, MO for both shows and my WonderTwin is traveling to both as well. I'll get to rock out with most of the Minnesotan rock'n'roll rats, Jake and Justin (my long time Bruce brothers), downattheresevoir and her sis, windycitydarling, her husband and her 20 year old son (a Bruce virgin), Cline (an awesomely perverted I think maybe Republican)...I can't wait to be back together with my people, screaming, dancing and sobbing!
BRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCE!
Saturday, January 26, 2008
To Keep My Mind Off It...
Yep, Marah was, at one time, gonna be playing the 400 Bar tonight. And, at one time, Texas-by-way-of-Minneapolis Kat was gonna be flying up for the show and we were gonna scream and dance like assholes together. And, at one time, my old coworkers who went to the last 400 Marah show and many of my new music friends were gonna come together to enjoy some seriously awesome rock'n'roll.
Alas...
Nope, I can't stay hung up on it all day, all week, all month, all year forever and ever and ever.
So...
To keep my mind off of it, because I still can't/won't listen to Marah's music (dramatic much??? SERIOUSLY Jones...I swear I'll stop soon enough), I'm gonna overwhelm myself with AWESOMENESS today!
1) I've listened to War Drums by Heiruspecs eight times already today. THIS SONG DRIVES ME CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAZY, but in the really good, seize back and forth with my arms waving kind of way. Jesus god, I LOVE THIS SONG!
No, I wasn't at this show...
But I WAS at THIS SHOW...
...and it was THE SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT! Yeah, the drunk asshole that tried to push in front of me, knocked my camera and poured beer on me and my American hip hop soulmate (Donkey, you KNOW you are my original hip hop sister forever and ever!!) was a pain but he got owned in the end and it turned out to be a righteous time. GOD BLESS LOCAL HIP HOP!!!!!
2) Dogs! God, I love them, too. From my sister back home who snuggled with me ALLLLLL NIGHT EVERY NIIIIIIIGHT over Christmas break, who missed me so much when I left that she would still run upstairs to see if I was there even after two weeks...
....to my future child...
...I LOVE DOOOOOOOOOOOGS!
3) Josh Ritter, one of my favorite discoveries of last year, has broken and healed my heart over and over again. On Letterman last week, he made me choke up with joy and hope that not ALL bands are gonna turn around and break up as soon as they perform on network television (Oh Marah...I still love you...I'll get over it and learn to praise again I SWEAR!)
Seriously...this man overwhelms me with that smile and Ritter DEFINITELY wins Happiest Man in the Universe award, well right after butter is better Paula Dean and this Ethiopian woman I know back in Kansas City. GO JOSH GO!
And, late last night, when I was a tad lonely and lying in the dark youtubing my favorite singers, I FOUND THIS...WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!?!?!? SJDHG{W(#*RYW^)WR&(T)Q@EW(DVKJHLKSFJ^%*&^$#$*DYR JOSH RITTER AAAAAAAND GLEN HANSARD...MERCY ME MERCY ME!!!!!!!!
I love me some beard on beard action.
4) GOSSIP GIRL DAY! The lovely gossip girls are having an entire day dedicated to cheesy movies, malts, live music and girl talk. Secrets will be revealed. Secrets will be locked tight in the gossip girl vault. GOSSIP GIRLZ!
5) Jason Isbell. Yep. I've gushed about him ad nauseam. Y'know...the fact that he broke off from one of my favorite bands and I thought it would be over, and it's obviously not...cause Sirens of the Ditch was one of my favorite releases last year and Chicago Promenade was one of my favorite songs last year (and of the past several years...in fact, I sorta think that DBT needs to step it up now)...It feels reeeeeeeal nice to think of that. And it feels reeeeeeeeal nice to listen to Isbell. And watch him. And I'm reeeeeeeeeeeeeal excited for his show at The Varsity on February 6th. WOOHOO! JASON!
It's a simple song but a lovely one.
6) I GOT PUBLISHED AGAIN! YAAAAAAAAAAAAY! Check out page 4 of this week's vita.mn! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!
This was a much needed treat/job after last week's sh*tty Thursday (the day that ended with me tripping outside the turf club and shattering one of my $400 lenses thus I spent all of Bon Iver crying tears of self loathing in the back of the venue!!!) Jonesie needs every last dolla bill she can get!
7) BRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCE!
Okay, if you wanna talk to me about breaking and healing my heart, there will always and forever be Bruce (big effin' surprise.) Above everything else. Yep yep yep. Seriously, people we're rounding the bend on a seven year die-hard obsession. It ain't waning any time soon. I watched this video last night with those same lights off, the glow of the greenway coming through the window, and I cried, SUCKAS, I CRIED!! Favorite song EVER...
That's from the show last November at Xcel, when, as I've said a billion times before, the rock'n'roll rats ruled the world. I didn't want it to end...the wails, the tears, the high fives, the hand-holding so tight that my knuckles turn white, the bar before and afterwards where your surrounded by people who understand and relish in it. I never want it to end. When those opening chords of Incident started, I screamed my Jonesie scream, FINALLY I was going to get to hear a full band Incident with all my E Street boys backing my Bruce. I was there, with my friends and my Mama, and life could not have been any more rewarding at that one moment. I wept, laughed and literally pounded on my mom's back, keeping my white girl rhythm, while dancing up and down. This song is a sweeping romance of epic proportions, yet its still simple and accessible, a boy loves a girl, Johnny & Jane. They meet through his tears, their names are never revealed (my favorite line ever: Puerto Rican Jane, oh won't you tell me what's your name?)...maybe because that way the anonymity allows all of us to a part of a love story, they love each other desperately and then, not by choice (I'd like to believe), he's gone. Is he arrested? Is he murdered? Is she alone? Maybe. Maybe it's something different every single time you hear it.
And Bruce is coming back on March 16th. Go to this show. Rock'n'roll redemption is worth every damn penny (or ten thousand of them.) Trust me.
God I can't wait...
What I do know is that I have left myself about 30 minutes go take a shower, put my make-up on and fix my hair up pretty, and kick it with my girls alllllll day! YAY!
To all that I have to look forward to in my future...YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!
Alas...
Nope, I can't stay hung up on it all day, all week, all month, all year forever and ever and ever.
So...
To keep my mind off of it, because I still can't/won't listen to Marah's music (dramatic much??? SERIOUSLY Jones...I swear I'll stop soon enough), I'm gonna overwhelm myself with AWESOMENESS today!
1) I've listened to War Drums by Heiruspecs eight times already today. THIS SONG DRIVES ME CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAZY, but in the really good, seize back and forth with my arms waving kind of way. Jesus god, I LOVE THIS SONG!
No, I wasn't at this show...
But I WAS at THIS SHOW...
...and it was THE SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT! Yeah, the drunk asshole that tried to push in front of me, knocked my camera and poured beer on me and my American hip hop soulmate (Donkey, you KNOW you are my original hip hop sister forever and ever!!) was a pain but he got owned in the end and it turned out to be a righteous time. GOD BLESS LOCAL HIP HOP!!!!!
2) Dogs! God, I love them, too. From my sister back home who snuggled with me ALLLLLL NIGHT EVERY NIIIIIIIGHT over Christmas break, who missed me so much when I left that she would still run upstairs to see if I was there even after two weeks...
....to my future child...
...I LOVE DOOOOOOOOOOOGS!
3) Josh Ritter, one of my favorite discoveries of last year, has broken and healed my heart over and over again. On Letterman last week, he made me choke up with joy and hope that not ALL bands are gonna turn around and break up as soon as they perform on network television (Oh Marah...I still love you...I'll get over it and learn to praise again I SWEAR!)
Seriously...this man overwhelms me with that smile and Ritter DEFINITELY wins Happiest Man in the Universe award, well right after butter is better Paula Dean and this Ethiopian woman I know back in Kansas City. GO JOSH GO!
And, late last night, when I was a tad lonely and lying in the dark youtubing my favorite singers, I FOUND THIS...WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!?!?!? SJDHG{W(#*RYW^)WR&(T)Q@EW(DVKJHLKSFJ^%*&^$#$*DYR JOSH RITTER AAAAAAAND GLEN HANSARD...MERCY ME MERCY ME!!!!!!!!
I love me some beard on beard action.
4) GOSSIP GIRL DAY! The lovely gossip girls are having an entire day dedicated to cheesy movies, malts, live music and girl talk. Secrets will be revealed. Secrets will be locked tight in the gossip girl vault. GOSSIP GIRLZ!
5) Jason Isbell. Yep. I've gushed about him ad nauseam. Y'know...the fact that he broke off from one of my favorite bands and I thought it would be over, and it's obviously not...cause Sirens of the Ditch was one of my favorite releases last year and Chicago Promenade was one of my favorite songs last year (and of the past several years...in fact, I sorta think that DBT needs to step it up now)...It feels reeeeeeeal nice to think of that. And it feels reeeeeeeeal nice to listen to Isbell. And watch him. And I'm reeeeeeeeeeeeeal excited for his show at The Varsity on February 6th. WOOHOO! JASON!
It's a simple song but a lovely one.
6) I GOT PUBLISHED AGAIN! YAAAAAAAAAAAAY! Check out page 4 of this week's vita.mn! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!
This was a much needed treat/job after last week's sh*tty Thursday (the day that ended with me tripping outside the turf club and shattering one of my $400 lenses thus I spent all of Bon Iver crying tears of self loathing in the back of the venue!!!) Jonesie needs every last dolla bill she can get!
7) BRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCE!
Okay, if you wanna talk to me about breaking and healing my heart, there will always and forever be Bruce (big effin' surprise.) Above everything else. Yep yep yep. Seriously, people we're rounding the bend on a seven year die-hard obsession. It ain't waning any time soon. I watched this video last night with those same lights off, the glow of the greenway coming through the window, and I cried, SUCKAS, I CRIED!! Favorite song EVER...
That's from the show last November at Xcel, when, as I've said a billion times before, the rock'n'roll rats ruled the world. I didn't want it to end...the wails, the tears, the high fives, the hand-holding so tight that my knuckles turn white, the bar before and afterwards where your surrounded by people who understand and relish in it. I never want it to end. When those opening chords of Incident started, I screamed my Jonesie scream, FINALLY I was going to get to hear a full band Incident with all my E Street boys backing my Bruce. I was there, with my friends and my Mama, and life could not have been any more rewarding at that one moment. I wept, laughed and literally pounded on my mom's back, keeping my white girl rhythm, while dancing up and down. This song is a sweeping romance of epic proportions, yet its still simple and accessible, a boy loves a girl, Johnny & Jane. They meet through his tears, their names are never revealed (my favorite line ever: Puerto Rican Jane, oh won't you tell me what's your name?)...maybe because that way the anonymity allows all of us to a part of a love story, they love each other desperately and then, not by choice (I'd like to believe), he's gone. Is he arrested? Is he murdered? Is she alone? Maybe. Maybe it's something different every single time you hear it.
And Bruce is coming back on March 16th. Go to this show. Rock'n'roll redemption is worth every damn penny (or ten thousand of them.) Trust me.
God I can't wait...
What I do know is that I have left myself about 30 minutes go take a shower, put my make-up on and fix my hair up pretty, and kick it with my girls alllllll day! YAY!
To all that I have to look forward to in my future...YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Danny's the Man
Tonight, I begin the process of real change. I packed my car full of the art that lined my walls for 3.5 years, the wooden masks and tapestries, the Dalis and Picasso my father got as a gift from his crazy, independently wealthy friend who had been murdered by the maids. Carmine, my only pet, my porcelain greyhound who weighs a ton is currently strapped into the passenger seat of my Honda. I'm meeting my parents at my sister's apartment in Des Moines for Thanksgiving. They are taking my art, much of my home, back to Missouri. It's everything I'm not giving to Goodwill or selling and all that takes up half of my living room. My bed, for now, will be put in a friend's basement. I'm only keeping a little with me cause I'm moving in with my WonderTwin. For the next however many months, I will be a glorified vagrant with a car full of personal belongings. After those however many months, I stay in Minneapolis with a lot less crap or I move to NYC with a lot less crap. Less crap includes less debt. I will have options for the first time ever and, more importantly, courage.
Courage to get older.
Tonight, I read that yesterday's Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band show in Boston was to be Danny Federici's last. Fuck. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Danny Federici has been with Bruce from the very beginning. He's one of the few E Street originals. They grew up together, cosmic kids in full costume dress.
He's a backbone, an E Street brother and he's sick. It's all unofficial reporting as of yet but it's real. Danny's getting older, yes, but he's younger than Bruce. He's 57 years old. Maybe this hyper extreme but it feels very much like the beginning of the end.
Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band are supposed to play forever. Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band are immortal, right? Right? This news has caused that lump in my throat, tears welling in my eyes that just might explode at any moment. I'm not stupid and I'm certainly not that naive. Immortality doesn't exist even with my Bruce Springsteen. My Bruce & the E Street Band.
When this album and tour were announced, this guy I know said "what's the big deal about Bruce and this band?" I wrote hundreds and hundreds of words about what a big fucking deal it was. This is Bruce's rock'n'roll family, his Jersey shore brothers and they will forever be a part of that explosive Magic. When I saw the final show of The Rising tour four years ago, Bruce held hands with everyone and they cried. There's so much love up on that stage and it just won't go away when the show ends. Every damn time I play a song where Danny's organ and keyboard soars, his legacy will keep on rocking.
Danny's THE Man
Thankfully, Danny's last show was a celebration, a party, a stellar set-list that had many shining moments from the Man himself. I can't wait for this bootleg and full reports from a Minnesota Bruce friend who was lucky enough to see this show. When Bruce and the Band took their bows, the audience, those thousands of fans, chanted Danny's name as Bruce hugged him goodbye. The tour will continue without Danny Federici. And in Boston, he received a joyous farewell.
And what else do you do? If you're Nils, you spend as much time as you can up on the organ riser, playing shoulder-to-shoulder. If you're Bruce, you head over to Danny during the bows at show's end and throw your arm around him, with a look on your face that says "godammit, I know we said we weren't going to talk about this tonight, but you can't stop me from doing this," and you bring him to the center of the pack, and he takes a bow of his own. And if you're the crowd, you chant "Danny! Danny! Danny!" It was as spontaneous as the "E Street Band" chant at Madison Square Garden on July 1, 2000 -- with fewer dry eyes, I imagine, both onstage and off.
~backstreets.com
An amazing video from Danny's final bow...
May this coming time bring Danny lots of love, health and peace as he steps off the stage and returns to his family and home. There's an overwhelming army of E Street Band lovers, a world of rock'n'roll fans, out there who will always cherish and rock out to Danny the Man.
EDIT: Okay...so maybe last night's post of Danny's finale was a bit hasty and dramatic. Hopefully. An official statement has been released and he has taken a leave of absence to pursue treatment for melanoma. Many healthy thoughts and prayers for a recovery are being sent your way, Danny! I'm gonna hold on to the hope that Danny the Man WILL be back!
Courage to get older.
Tonight, I read that yesterday's Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band show in Boston was to be Danny Federici's last. Fuck. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Danny Federici has been with Bruce from the very beginning. He's one of the few E Street originals. They grew up together, cosmic kids in full costume dress.
He's a backbone, an E Street brother and he's sick. It's all unofficial reporting as of yet but it's real. Danny's getting older, yes, but he's younger than Bruce. He's 57 years old. Maybe this hyper extreme but it feels very much like the beginning of the end.
Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band are supposed to play forever. Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band are immortal, right? Right? This news has caused that lump in my throat, tears welling in my eyes that just might explode at any moment. I'm not stupid and I'm certainly not that naive. Immortality doesn't exist even with my Bruce Springsteen. My Bruce & the E Street Band.
When this album and tour were announced, this guy I know said "what's the big deal about Bruce and this band?" I wrote hundreds and hundreds of words about what a big fucking deal it was. This is Bruce's rock'n'roll family, his Jersey shore brothers and they will forever be a part of that explosive Magic. When I saw the final show of The Rising tour four years ago, Bruce held hands with everyone and they cried. There's so much love up on that stage and it just won't go away when the show ends. Every damn time I play a song where Danny's organ and keyboard soars, his legacy will keep on rocking.
Danny's THE Man
Thankfully, Danny's last show was a celebration, a party, a stellar set-list that had many shining moments from the Man himself. I can't wait for this bootleg and full reports from a Minnesota Bruce friend who was lucky enough to see this show. When Bruce and the Band took their bows, the audience, those thousands of fans, chanted Danny's name as Bruce hugged him goodbye. The tour will continue without Danny Federici. And in Boston, he received a joyous farewell.
And what else do you do? If you're Nils, you spend as much time as you can up on the organ riser, playing shoulder-to-shoulder. If you're Bruce, you head over to Danny during the bows at show's end and throw your arm around him, with a look on your face that says "godammit, I know we said we weren't going to talk about this tonight, but you can't stop me from doing this," and you bring him to the center of the pack, and he takes a bow of his own. And if you're the crowd, you chant "Danny! Danny! Danny!" It was as spontaneous as the "E Street Band" chant at Madison Square Garden on July 1, 2000 -- with fewer dry eyes, I imagine, both onstage and off.
~backstreets.com
An amazing video from Danny's final bow...
May this coming time bring Danny lots of love, health and peace as he steps off the stage and returns to his family and home. There's an overwhelming army of E Street Band lovers, a world of rock'n'roll fans, out there who will always cherish and rock out to Danny the Man.
EDIT: Okay...so maybe last night's post of Danny's finale was a bit hasty and dramatic. Hopefully. An official statement has been released and he has taken a leave of absence to pursue treatment for melanoma. Many healthy thoughts and prayers for a recovery are being sent your way, Danny! I'm gonna hold on to the hope that Danny the Man WILL be back!
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
A map I DEFINITELY could follow...
I'm getting that entire thing tattooed to my back, and probably half my ass, and well maybe all of it, and maybe it'll reach around a little to my front. Grrrr...
Friday, May 25, 2007
Fishlady is my friend.
Last night, at 9:30pm, I stood in Chipmonkey's doorway. I had just left work, walked away from a manager who was acting like a complete pile.
"I really need your partnership. I really need your partnership. I really need your partnership," he chanted. Chipper and mindless. He was berating a fellow employee. I stood for a moment, maybe waiting for him to rip into me. At that second, I realized I had the power not to be humiliated. So I turned around and walked out the door.
I drove and listened to Arcade Fire. A few of the songs skipped.
"Let's go on a bike ride," she said.
Chipmonkey knows that, like every wannabe wiener dog, a lady needs to be let out to play. And run around in circles until her head explodes.
"Let's go to Town Talk. I'll buy," she said.
"Okay," I said.
So we rode through Seward and my black cardigan flapped in the breeze.
We drank our adult shake and ate our garlic fries. And we talked and talked and talked and talked and talked.
We rode back and sat in her apartment discussing our summer theatre project. And, you know, life. I sat there taking notes to start my scene. I stopped and carved the words "wake from my dream" into my right wrist with my pen. It's faded but still on my wrist tonight.
I drove home in a daze. Overwhelmed by my summer theatre project and life.
I ran into my room, took off everything except my underwear and ran into my living room. By the light of the kitchen, I put side B of Wild Innocent & the E Street Shuffle onto the turn table.
I turned off the kitchen light and laid face down on one of my (many) Turkish rugs. This one was in my mom's study forever. It's not as rough and scratchy as all the one's we had upstairs.
In my underwear, I laid there in the darkness, listening to Incident on 57th Street. The sliding door that leads to nothing from our second floor apartment was open. I heard the cars pass on Central and the random holler that is prevelant on my street. My head was turned to the right and my skin melted with the humidity. I breathed in the salt as the record skipped towards the end of the song. In this version on this night, Spanish Johnny would get away unharmed. Maybe he's driving down Central right now.
It wasn't a Rosalita night so I put the needle down ahead and it perfectly landed on New York City Serenade. I laid back down and the thought crossed my mind "Alexa, you don't live alone. You have roommates and if they walked out into the living room right now, they would see you lying on a rug, almost naked. And you're listening to Bruce, so they probably think you're getting freaky with your bad self. But your not. Your lying her dead still." In the end, It didn't matter. It was one o'clock in the morning and I was so tired that my brain felt like it was bleeding out my beautiful eardrums.
So I listened to my song.
I thought about New York. When I heard that song played live at Shea Stadium in 2003. My mom and I sat in the loge section and Roy tapped into those opening piano chords. And the song swelled over the stadium. I saw the Manhattan skyline lit behind the stadium wall, behind Bruce. New York City Serenade, indeed. I thought about Minneapolis. Fishlady lives here, too. The characters in his story are my neighbors and that makes me less alone. My favorite line played out the crackling spearks, "So walk tall or baby don't walk at all." I thought about the way my shoulder smelled. I thought about all the rumors of an E Street band tour beginning in the fall. What could I do, what can I sacrifice, what could I sell, where could I work to afford those shows? I'll make it happen. I always do. "Shake away the city lights. Shake away those street lights." Those street lights spilled into my living room and I danced while lying still.
The record ended.
I wrote my script. I stared at Hopper paintings. I fell asleep late into the night. I woke up and it was pouring rain. My head was pounding and I was lying sideways in my bed, my ragged kitty blanket wrapped tightly around me. I hadn't slept well. I finally got up and trudged to work, my curls messily pressed against my head in my blue faux vintage headband. I ended up taking a half personal day to come home and sleep because if I didn't, I would either have another seizure or start crying. I had two more rehearsals today that I needed energy for and I'm quitting my job soon anyway.
It's just one of those weeks. Besides, I needed to sleep. I had been up all night serenading.
"I really need your partnership. I really need your partnership. I really need your partnership," he chanted. Chipper and mindless. He was berating a fellow employee. I stood for a moment, maybe waiting for him to rip into me. At that second, I realized I had the power not to be humiliated. So I turned around and walked out the door.
I drove and listened to Arcade Fire. A few of the songs skipped.
"Let's go on a bike ride," she said.
Chipmonkey knows that, like every wannabe wiener dog, a lady needs to be let out to play. And run around in circles until her head explodes.
"Let's go to Town Talk. I'll buy," she said.
"Okay," I said.
So we rode through Seward and my black cardigan flapped in the breeze.
We drank our adult shake and ate our garlic fries. And we talked and talked and talked and talked and talked.
We rode back and sat in her apartment discussing our summer theatre project. And, you know, life. I sat there taking notes to start my scene. I stopped and carved the words "wake from my dream" into my right wrist with my pen. It's faded but still on my wrist tonight.
I drove home in a daze. Overwhelmed by my summer theatre project and life.
I ran into my room, took off everything except my underwear and ran into my living room. By the light of the kitchen, I put side B of Wild Innocent & the E Street Shuffle onto the turn table.
I turned off the kitchen light and laid face down on one of my (many) Turkish rugs. This one was in my mom's study forever. It's not as rough and scratchy as all the one's we had upstairs.
In my underwear, I laid there in the darkness, listening to Incident on 57th Street. The sliding door that leads to nothing from our second floor apartment was open. I heard the cars pass on Central and the random holler that is prevelant on my street. My head was turned to the right and my skin melted with the humidity. I breathed in the salt as the record skipped towards the end of the song. In this version on this night, Spanish Johnny would get away unharmed. Maybe he's driving down Central right now.
It wasn't a Rosalita night so I put the needle down ahead and it perfectly landed on New York City Serenade. I laid back down and the thought crossed my mind "Alexa, you don't live alone. You have roommates and if they walked out into the living room right now, they would see you lying on a rug, almost naked. And you're listening to Bruce, so they probably think you're getting freaky with your bad self. But your not. Your lying her dead still." In the end, It didn't matter. It was one o'clock in the morning and I was so tired that my brain felt like it was bleeding out my beautiful eardrums.
So I listened to my song.
I thought about New York. When I heard that song played live at Shea Stadium in 2003. My mom and I sat in the loge section and Roy tapped into those opening piano chords. And the song swelled over the stadium. I saw the Manhattan skyline lit behind the stadium wall, behind Bruce. New York City Serenade, indeed. I thought about Minneapolis. Fishlady lives here, too. The characters in his story are my neighbors and that makes me less alone. My favorite line played out the crackling spearks, "So walk tall or baby don't walk at all." I thought about the way my shoulder smelled. I thought about all the rumors of an E Street band tour beginning in the fall. What could I do, what can I sacrifice, what could I sell, where could I work to afford those shows? I'll make it happen. I always do. "Shake away the city lights. Shake away those street lights." Those street lights spilled into my living room and I danced while lying still.
The record ended.
I wrote my script. I stared at Hopper paintings. I fell asleep late into the night. I woke up and it was pouring rain. My head was pounding and I was lying sideways in my bed, my ragged kitty blanket wrapped tightly around me. I hadn't slept well. I finally got up and trudged to work, my curls messily pressed against my head in my blue faux vintage headband. I ended up taking a half personal day to come home and sleep because if I didn't, I would either have another seizure or start crying. I had two more rehearsals today that I needed energy for and I'm quitting my job soon anyway.
It's just one of those weeks. Besides, I needed to sleep. I had been up all night serenading.
Monday, April 23, 2007
I had a dream too, Martin Luther King Jr.
Saturday morning, I woke up at 9:30am with a pounding head-ache and a monster case of cottonmouth. So I chugged a glass of water and fell back asleep for three hours.
I awoke again at 12:30pm: sweaty and dazed but no headache. My thirst still very very quenched.
I sat up and it all came rushing back to me...
I had had a Bruce Springsteen dream!!!!
Glory Glory Hallelujah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I went to go hear Bruce speak in this classroom of this high school (that looked an awful lot like Jefferson Elementary on Hennepin.) I got there really early (naturally), sat down in one of those little desks & Bruce entered the room.
"Hi Bruce," I said.
"Hi," he said.
I knew that I couldn't say anything else or I'd make a complete dumbass out of myself. In the dream, I thought of the Chuck Klosterman nightmare.
He then looked at me intensely and said, "You look really good in green."
My stomach dropped, in that wonderful way, and I blushed.
Then, Bruce set up this fort out of cardboard boxes and started shoveling pans of quiche into his mouth with his hands. All of sudden, Rainn Wilson from The Office appeared and the two men had a sit-up competition on either side of a cardboard box. Bruce won (he is 100% stallion, after all.)
It got crowded in the classroom. These two Abercrombie & Fitch bitches tried to make me move and then told me my make-up was garish. This embarrassed me and I tried to feverishly rub it off my eyelids. They finally left and this crazy lady came in looking for her apple.
That was it. That was the dream. It's surprising I didn't wake up with my pants off cause it had been about four years since my last Bruce Springsteen dream (one where I was photographing him doing these "sexy superhero poses" on a rooftop in the twilight) and Jonesie is feeling awwwwwwwfully frisky (springtime...WOOOOOOHOOOOO!!) Thank you Stook! for having your birthday and forcing me to obsess about the awesomeness of Bruce versus the less than but still awesomeness of Gary. Thank you Jim (forever) for the Hoot. Thank you The Department Store for forcing me to flee from the fire into the eternal sunshine of smoke filled cars, dance filled bars and new friends.
It was one hell of a dream.
I awoke again at 12:30pm: sweaty and dazed but no headache. My thirst still very very quenched.
I sat up and it all came rushing back to me...
I had had a Bruce Springsteen dream!!!!
Glory Glory Hallelujah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I went to go hear Bruce speak in this classroom of this high school (that looked an awful lot like Jefferson Elementary on Hennepin.) I got there really early (naturally), sat down in one of those little desks & Bruce entered the room.
"Hi Bruce," I said.
"Hi," he said.
I knew that I couldn't say anything else or I'd make a complete dumbass out of myself. In the dream, I thought of the Chuck Klosterman nightmare.
He then looked at me intensely and said, "You look really good in green."
My stomach dropped, in that wonderful way, and I blushed.
Then, Bruce set up this fort out of cardboard boxes and started shoveling pans of quiche into his mouth with his hands. All of sudden, Rainn Wilson from The Office appeared and the two men had a sit-up competition on either side of a cardboard box. Bruce won (he is 100% stallion, after all.)
It got crowded in the classroom. These two Abercrombie & Fitch bitches tried to make me move and then told me my make-up was garish. This embarrassed me and I tried to feverishly rub it off my eyelids. They finally left and this crazy lady came in looking for her apple.
That was it. That was the dream. It's surprising I didn't wake up with my pants off cause it had been about four years since my last Bruce Springsteen dream (one where I was photographing him doing these "sexy superhero poses" on a rooftop in the twilight) and Jonesie is feeling awwwwwwwfully frisky (springtime...WOOOOOOHOOOOO!!) Thank you Stook! for having your birthday and forcing me to obsess about the awesomeness of Bruce versus the less than but still awesomeness of Gary. Thank you Jim (forever) for the Hoot. Thank you The Department Store for forcing me to flee from the fire into the eternal sunshine of smoke filled cars, dance filled bars and new friends.
It was one hell of a dream.
Monday, April 9, 2007
Christ has "Risen." Holla.
Friday, I did the math and realized that, during the week, I had spent as much time shooting and editing pictures as I do at my full time job (37 hours.) This both intrigued, excited and scared the shit out of me (good thing because I ate Taco Bell at 3am on Friday...my intestines, like Jesus when he saw those nails coming his way, were not pleased.) I love this. I don't want to get burnt out on it. And I needed to just be present in a world I constantly try to capture through obsessive thoughts, words or pictures. So I challenged myself to not take photos. I made it most of the night, soaking in the magic of the never ending Hoot, and only cheating a bit at the end.
Because I couldn't stop wondering how the fuck did I get here? I sat in the middle of Jim's floor, against Anna's leg, staring up at the giant newspaper article he did about Bruce, SIGNED by Bruce, trying to stop Zero the dog from eating my face/making out with me.
I listened to the musicians play round robin with their voices and instruments.
They poured their heart into a living room full of fifteen or so people.
Jim actuall sang "Alexa smiles like the sun." Which was true.
I left, sober cabbing it to Big V's and standing in the midst of rock 'n' roll devil horns and screaming guitar licks. It was culture shock after the six hour soulful singer/songwriter fest.
So I grabbed the lack of poop-licious Taco Bell with Jessica, drove her home to Uptown, and sat on her couch to watch an episode of Top Design. Got I love Chalupas. God I love reality television. God I love looking across a room to realize I am not alone as the Stook! song he dedicated to (almost Chicago bound) Andrea breaks my heart.
Saturday, I worked late, dreamt about that burly biker dude with the leather jacket and big moustache who walks down Lyndale with a wiener dog wearing a skirt (two of my friends have called with sightings of my dream man...I have yet to witness him in the flesh...though my hand has), and watched six episodes of Weeds (my new favorite show.)
I got drunk in the afternoon off of three very delicious, very fruity and very strong mimosas from brunch at Genna's house. Praise Jesus. I proceeded to nap on my couch for three hours and woke up with my Easter dress up around my waste and a monster headache. God bless the 6:30pm hangover. Three tylenol and a handful of almonds later, I am cured.
My heart is a little broken right now. Jason Isbell is leaving my beloved Drive-By Truckers. Not only did he write two of my favorite DBT songs/favorite songs of all time, Outfit & Decoration Day, he is some serious Southern eye candy. Poo. His solo work, while I am absolutely thrilled about, has some very big shoes to fill.
I've decided that the horrifically insipid acronym W.W.J.D ACTUALLY stands for "What Would Jonesie Do?" Balls out, Jonesie likes to rock n roll with potato sacks under her eyes and a caffeine headache the size of your daddy's wang.
Monday: work then Son Volt at First Ave
Tuesday: work then American Idol
Wednesday: work then Voltage: Fashion Amplified at First Ave
Thursday: sleep/laundry/haircut then Leslie & the LY's at First Ave's 7th St Entry
Friday: work then Hoot
Saturday: work then Low at First Ave (maybe...if I can switch my schedule so I don't close)
Sunday: work then rehearsal
I need to know the Bionic Man's secret. Luckily, I don't feel like Uncle Floyd's burning asshole like the last time my schedule was this insane. My (almost always) healthy diet allows me to push myself to the limits...much like marathon man...except without the toned muscles and ability to move my legs back and forth in what some might call "a run."
I will leave you with this glorious, awe inspired, party caught on film:
This is from the April 5th Bruce Springsteen Tribute at Carnegie Hall. Bruce invites Craig Finn of Hold Steady to sing first. I'd like to think this is one of the top five experiences of Craig's life. I love the shit eating grin and his spastic dancing. One cannot deny the fact that he absolutely loves sharing that stage with Bruce Springsteen. Look at his wacky gestures! Look at that face! It reminds me so much of when Bruce was jamming with Bob Dylan at Shea Stadium. Craig Finn's joy is palpable (my new favorite word.) We all have our idols.
Plus I love seeing my Marah boys (especially Kirk...who is a dwarf apparently...and Adam...who still manages to look really cool though he is moving like a Suburban mom in complete elation) up there clapping and dancing.
Though I'm coming to terms with the fact that I cannot please everyone and be everywhere all at once, I should have been there. I should have been at Carnegie Hall.
Life According to Bruce: Yay for the loud, crowded party!
Because I couldn't stop wondering how the fuck did I get here? I sat in the middle of Jim's floor, against Anna's leg, staring up at the giant newspaper article he did about Bruce, SIGNED by Bruce, trying to stop Zero the dog from eating my face/making out with me.
I listened to the musicians play round robin with their voices and instruments.
They poured their heart into a living room full of fifteen or so people.
Jim actuall sang "Alexa smiles like the sun." Which was true.
I left, sober cabbing it to Big V's and standing in the midst of rock 'n' roll devil horns and screaming guitar licks. It was culture shock after the six hour soulful singer/songwriter fest.
So I grabbed the lack of poop-licious Taco Bell with Jessica, drove her home to Uptown, and sat on her couch to watch an episode of Top Design. Got I love Chalupas. God I love reality television. God I love looking across a room to realize I am not alone as the Stook! song he dedicated to (almost Chicago bound) Andrea breaks my heart.
Saturday, I worked late, dreamt about that burly biker dude with the leather jacket and big moustache who walks down Lyndale with a wiener dog wearing a skirt (two of my friends have called with sightings of my dream man...I have yet to witness him in the flesh...though my hand has), and watched six episodes of Weeds (my new favorite show.)
I got drunk in the afternoon off of three very delicious, very fruity and very strong mimosas from brunch at Genna's house. Praise Jesus. I proceeded to nap on my couch for three hours and woke up with my Easter dress up around my waste and a monster headache. God bless the 6:30pm hangover. Three tylenol and a handful of almonds later, I am cured.
My heart is a little broken right now. Jason Isbell is leaving my beloved Drive-By Truckers. Not only did he write two of my favorite DBT songs/favorite songs of all time, Outfit & Decoration Day, he is some serious Southern eye candy. Poo. His solo work, while I am absolutely thrilled about, has some very big shoes to fill.
I've decided that the horrifically insipid acronym W.W.J.D ACTUALLY stands for "What Would Jonesie Do?" Balls out, Jonesie likes to rock n roll with potato sacks under her eyes and a caffeine headache the size of your daddy's wang.
Monday: work then Son Volt at First Ave
Tuesday: work then American Idol
Wednesday: work then Voltage: Fashion Amplified at First Ave
Thursday: sleep/laundry/haircut then Leslie & the LY's at First Ave's 7th St Entry
Friday: work then Hoot
Saturday: work then Low at First Ave (maybe...if I can switch my schedule so I don't close)
Sunday: work then rehearsal
I need to know the Bionic Man's secret. Luckily, I don't feel like Uncle Floyd's burning asshole like the last time my schedule was this insane. My (almost always) healthy diet allows me to push myself to the limits...much like marathon man...except without the toned muscles and ability to move my legs back and forth in what some might call "a run."
I will leave you with this glorious, awe inspired, party caught on film:
This is from the April 5th Bruce Springsteen Tribute at Carnegie Hall. Bruce invites Craig Finn of Hold Steady to sing first. I'd like to think this is one of the top five experiences of Craig's life. I love the shit eating grin and his spastic dancing. One cannot deny the fact that he absolutely loves sharing that stage with Bruce Springsteen. Look at his wacky gestures! Look at that face! It reminds me so much of when Bruce was jamming with Bob Dylan at Shea Stadium. Craig Finn's joy is palpable (my new favorite word.) We all have our idols.
Plus I love seeing my Marah boys (especially Kirk...who is a dwarf apparently...and Adam...who still manages to look really cool though he is moving like a Suburban mom in complete elation) up there clapping and dancing.
Though I'm coming to terms with the fact that I cannot please everyone and be everywhere all at once, I should have been there. I should have been at Carnegie Hall.
Life According to Bruce: Yay for the loud, crowded party!
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
The Midwestern Bruce Girl Wonders
"I was 21 years when I wrote this song. I’m 22 now but I won’t be for long. People ask me when will I grow up to understand why the girls I knew at school are already pushing prams.”
Today it almost reached 80 degrees in Minnesota. It was beautiful as I drove, stuck in traffic on 94 on my way to downtown St Paul. My windows were down and I was blaring Cloud Cult so loud that it almost tuned out the motorcycle beside me. We did the seated reading at the Loading Dock Theater. It was good. Fun to enunciate the stage directions really clearly like on my cell phone voicemail message. Fun to put on a professional voice. At one point I looked at the audience and saw Anna and Laura, thanking god that I had friends that would support me endlessly, no matter how small my venture seems. These girls, the actress and the choreographer, understand the creative restlessness that comes with being the type of people we are. The busy schedules. The mediocre but still sorta fun day jobs. The insanely fulfilling hours after work. We sat with our beers after the reading and talked for three hours, telling stories of religion and relationships and MySpace and families and our questionable, unclear, wonderfully hopeful future. They are my constant support, my daily saviors, my foundation.
But then there’s my other half. My Morgie and Leslie. The married girls.
Leslie + Alexa = Lesexa…no one can ever quite get you like the girl who makes up the other half of your most infamous nickname
“What are you doing this weekend?” Morgie asks.
“I’m going to the Hootenany and then this show and then I work and then I’m going to this other show and then this party and then brunch and then rehearsal. What are you doing?” I say.
“I’m planting in the garden…” she says.
“And then what?” I ask.
“That’s it,” she says.
And we both laugh.
I love Morgan. She is my soul sister and knows my past better than anyone. Though we live polar opposite lives, she will always be my family. Like Carrie says in SATC, my insides.
I wonder…I realize…
“I don’t want to change the world. I’m not looking for A New England. Are you looking for another girl?”
My mom says I come from a family of big dreamers. My mentor in high school said I live inside my head. My best friends can read the blank expression on my face when I’m lost in thought. Those moments I break out, where my insides are torn into the outside, they are rare but they do happen. And mostly that comes when I start sobbing or screaming with elation or lost in the community at a (mostly Bruce Springsteen) show because that has become MY cathartic outlet. And I thought it never really happens here. Not like that. Not like my Brooklyn or Manhattan or Philly adventures. That it really only happened when I was on the East Coast. And people might say it’s because I allow myself to feel that way when I am over there.
In December of 2005, I had an amazing weekend and the greatest audience, the greatest concert community experience of my life at a Marah show in Philly.
Minneapolis is my home. But New York City has been my dream for years. I watched two of my best friends move to NYC, build lives in NYC, as I continued to stay in the Midwest. I was jealous yet too busy to dwell too much. But then that insanity dies down for a moment, I realize the stagnant pattern my life is making and I know I am ready. I know how much more there is out there. I know the people, the friends and family, the concert community, the artistic opportunity, I have waiting for me. This August, Brian is flying to Minneapolis and, if I want his help moving out there, that is the only time he will give it. I won’t drive out there with my blanket and my albums and my stuffed animal family and my wacky clothes by myself. That is my chance. My date. And it is only five months away.
The problem is…
“I love the words you wrote to me but that was bloody yesterday. I can’t get by what you sing every time you need a friend. “
Friday, I remembered how I felt that December night in Philly. It was beautiful, cool enough to wear only my bright neon Roos zip up jacket. My hot pink tights and my worn down army boots. Those electric pink tights screamed up to me from the whiskey stained floor every time I adjusted my position at the Hootenany to see beyond the scrambling children and booze passing adults. I listened, looking down, laughing with Jen every time the keyboard would start and we both connect it to some 70’s or 80’s tv show. I remember, with Jen’s help, Doogie Howser M.D.
We stand and I hesitate. I don’t know what to do. So I give the mofo sign, whatever it may be, to Stook and I begin to slowly walk out. It’s cool and I haven’t really decided my plans for the evening so I walk extra slowly. As I walk down the alley by Java Jack’s, I run into the HWTS (howwastheshow) group again. I’m much less afraid now than the first experience of the Hoot so I stand and I don’t hesitate. I talk. I begin to ramble. I tell My Ass is Big as a MOTHERFUCKA story and Jim walks out. He goes around the circle and asks us all if we are coming to the bar.
I say no. I have to sleep. I have to wake up at 8am. I have to make copies. I think I don't want to intrude.
That isn’t a good enough reason, he says. I know it’s not so I change my mind. I remember that I shouldn’t hesitate any more.
So I run to my car, follow Jen and Andrea to the CC Club and stuff down half of my pb&j on the way there. It’s the only thing I’ve eaten and I know that if I don’t eat it, I’ll get drunk just by beer contact at the bar. So, though I still feel slightly ill from my week of bed sore sickness, I swallow the peanut butter soaked sourdough.
I’m inside. I sit at the table of local music people: writers and musicians and photographers and I almost shit my pants. It still doesn’t really seem real. Really really real. Sit at a table of people you really respect and try to act normal. I'm never normal anyway. But THEN I hear the question…
“So Alexa is totally obessed, huh? You’re a Bruce Springsteen fan, huh?
And I snap out of my weird, insecure place, looking wide eyed as I suck in my breath.
“Uhhhh…hell yeah.”
After a moment, I unzip my neon Roo jacket to reveal my Born to Run shirt. And I begin to ramble. And I do not shut the fuck up for two hours. I tell the tale that is my Bruce obsession. I open that giant can of loud, passionate, writhing worms. And I slowly realize they understand. They tell their tales of Bruce fandom, catering for him during Tunnel of Love or snapping shots during Vote For Change or being in the audience for the Courtney Cox filming of Dancing in the Dark. THEY UNDERSTAND! I tell of my very first Bruce moment in the hotel room in Mt. Vernon, Missouri. And I tell my tale of Back in Your Arms and seeing Bob Dylan jam out with Bruce at Shea Stadium and Martin agrees that it really is the most underrated Springsteen song. And Stook tells me that his artist brother, another diehard Bruce fan, painted a picture of Bruce literally kicking The Jayhawks ass. Though I love The Jayhawks, I have to have that picture. Some laugh. Some don’t really agree with my adoration with The Boss but then they start rambling about their musical icons and it’s all okay anyway. It doesn’t matter who. It just matters that it’s there.
I talk about music. I talk about writing. I talk about photography. I talk about my fears and my passions. I talk about Bruce some more.
I wonder if I have talked about Bruce too much but then I just can’t seem to shut the fuck up. And I feel wonderful. My voice is sort of hoarse though I have chugged nothing but water for two hours.
Pat looks at me and say “God you talk dramatically” and I dramatically answer with not a shred of hesitation “I KNOW!”
I get up to use the restroom and my electric pink tights are still screaming.
That passion and energy that I am so capable of came out in full force Friday night and I have a massive realization as I buzz into an exhausted, rambling sleep. The way I felt with those people…on some level…that’s how I felt on my amazing night in Philly. It took a half hour there. It took three years here.
It was a little harder for me to find, a lot harder for me to be open to. But it’s here. Right in front of me. In my home. My city.
Maybe I’ll never be anything but that Bruce girl that one night at CC Club to them. But I don’t think so. I’m in control of that. And being that Bruce girl is pretty fucking awesome anyway.
I may never feel like that again but I never thought I could really feel like that absolute giddy gut busting girl in Philly again.
I realize…
I am so happy right now.
“I saw two shooting stars last night. I wished on them but they are only satellites.”
The people who know me the best tell me I should move out to the East. Though he wants me to more than anything, Brian doesn’t think I will. He knows how capable I am of living greatly in Minneapolis. But he knows how greatly I could live in New York City.
I always said I am the best version of myself in NYC. I just don't know what that self is right now.
I feel like two conflicting halves right now. The half that experienced Friday night and the half that experienced the other side of the nation:
Everything you could think to tell me has already been said.
I know it could be a temporary move but I don't want to think of this next step as anything temporary. It's my life and I want to throw myself into it. I've worked hard to get where I am in Minneapolis and I'll work hard to make my life in NYC.
If...But...Ummm....
I am afraid to say goodbye to Minneapolis, to this city of accessible, wonderful music and beauty, to this familiar city of friends and comfortable adventure. I am afraid of the fact that I am so happy right now. I am afraid of the fact that I still get choked up with desire every time I watch that video. I am afraid that I will not be brave enough. I am afraid that I do not need to be brave. I don’t even know what being brave is right now.
Maybe my dreams aren’t as grand as they used to be. Maybe I’m not looking for A New England, a new city. Maybe I’m not that other girl.
I just have to remember…
“My dreams were full of strange ideas. My mind was set despite the fears.”
Thank you to Billy Bragg and Kristy Maccoll for setting the soundtrack for my random, split thoughts with “A New England.”
The Song that is in Your Heart, Young Hedgehog
When I was a little girl, we were only allowed to watch one hour of television a day. And my mom never bought us video games. Though we begged, she never counted it as a priority gift. Instead Christmas and birthdays were spent rounding out my Kirsten the American Doll collection. I know I am a better person for it today but DAMN IT ALL I JUST WANTED TO PLAY MY VIDEO GAMES!
The neighbor girl, Beth, had two older brothers and they had an Atari. That was badass. Except two teenage guys don't really want to play with their kid sister and her strange neighbor friend, so we only got to play Pong a few times a month. In middle school, I become friends with Jill and she had a Nintendo. Ever weekend, after we would read the dirty passages from her mom's romance novels that Jill had bookmarked during the week, we would spend hours in front of the tv with Super Mario Bros 2 & 3, beating and blowing into the box whenever it would freeze up. I was ALWAYS the Princess. And I kicked ass. Finally, while I was in junior high, my sister, who had a very financially giving godfather, bought a Sega Gamegear. We owned Echo the Dolphin, Ren & Stimpy and, most importantly, Sonic the Hedgehog. While watching the melodramatic misadventures of Dawson and Ally McBeal, I, as a spiky blue cartoon character, would roll up into a little ball to knock the shit out of my competitors. And I was good. As Sonic the Hedgehog, I was an indestructible force. That was a mighty feeling for my weak and damaged adolescent mind.
Five years later, I became obsessed with Bruce Springsteen.
"But how the hell are those two connected??!?!" you might ask. Well...like you, I would have thought it impossible...until I was YouTubing Bruce Springsteen last night and came upon this fucked up, extraordinarily insane yet WONDERFUL discovery....
HOLY
FUCKING
GOD
I cannot BELIEVE that exists!
What's even more odd is the Bruce song of choice and the YouTube description by the creator:
"This is the fourth music video I made. When I first heard Bruce Springsteen's new song, "The Rising," I knew that would be a song perfect for the Sonic Underground to sing on the episode "Beginnings." "
Uhhhhhhhhhhh...okay...not really "perfect," Mr. Perreault. Maybe pixelly orgasmic, but not really perfect. Because Bruce is an odd choice to begin with, and short of any acoustic song, I think maybe The Rising, a song about coming together as a nation after a catastrophe, is one of the oddest choices he could have made.
Though after typing that sentence, I realize maybe it was a perfect Bruce song to use.
And I did get choked up a tiny TINY bit. Naturally.
Mr. Perreault, you are my new god.
I've never wanted to bone a heroic little cartoon character so much as when he opens his mouth and Bruce Springsteen's voice comes out. When Sonic rolls up like hedgehogs are wont to do, it gives a whole new definition to "Blue Balls." Shazaam.
The neighbor girl, Beth, had two older brothers and they had an Atari. That was badass. Except two teenage guys don't really want to play with their kid sister and her strange neighbor friend, so we only got to play Pong a few times a month. In middle school, I become friends with Jill and she had a Nintendo. Ever weekend, after we would read the dirty passages from her mom's romance novels that Jill had bookmarked during the week, we would spend hours in front of the tv with Super Mario Bros 2 & 3, beating and blowing into the box whenever it would freeze up. I was ALWAYS the Princess. And I kicked ass. Finally, while I was in junior high, my sister, who had a very financially giving godfather, bought a Sega Gamegear. We owned Echo the Dolphin, Ren & Stimpy and, most importantly, Sonic the Hedgehog. While watching the melodramatic misadventures of Dawson and Ally McBeal, I, as a spiky blue cartoon character, would roll up into a little ball to knock the shit out of my competitors. And I was good. As Sonic the Hedgehog, I was an indestructible force. That was a mighty feeling for my weak and damaged adolescent mind.
Five years later, I became obsessed with Bruce Springsteen.
"But how the hell are those two connected??!?!" you might ask. Well...like you, I would have thought it impossible...until I was YouTubing Bruce Springsteen last night and came upon this fucked up, extraordinarily insane yet WONDERFUL discovery....
HOLY
FUCKING
GOD
I cannot BELIEVE that exists!
What's even more odd is the Bruce song of choice and the YouTube description by the creator:
"This is the fourth music video I made. When I first heard Bruce Springsteen's new song, "The Rising," I knew that would be a song perfect for the Sonic Underground to sing on the episode "Beginnings." "
Uhhhhhhhhhhh...okay...not really "perfect," Mr. Perreault. Maybe pixelly orgasmic, but not really perfect. Because Bruce is an odd choice to begin with, and short of any acoustic song, I think maybe The Rising, a song about coming together as a nation after a catastrophe, is one of the oddest choices he could have made.
Though after typing that sentence, I realize maybe it was a perfect Bruce song to use.
And I did get choked up a tiny TINY bit. Naturally.
Mr. Perreault, you are my new god.
I've never wanted to bone a heroic little cartoon character so much as when he opens his mouth and Bruce Springsteen's voice comes out. When Sonic rolls up like hedgehogs are wont to do, it gives a whole new definition to "Blue Balls." Shazaam.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Call me a hipster and die. Get snowed in and live.
FRIDAY
I have learned that one should never try to "say something" when she meets someone famous whom she respects. Never ever.
I stood in line clutching my copy of "Killing Yourself to Live". Chuck Klosterman had just been interviewed by Mary Lucia and Tapes n' Tapes had played several different songs. Chuck was hilarious, arrogant and awesome. I thought about my earlier experience meeting Amy Sedaris and how I had been so idol struck, I couldn't speak. I swore the same situation wouldn't happen with Chuck. So I thought about what I would say. I thought about paragraphs in his books that affected me the most. And there is one that really REALLY resonated with me. I have this habit, with any music related book, of looking at the glossary to see what has been written about Bruce Springsteen. Because he's the man. Alas, Chuck hadn't thought so...
A chapter from "Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs" that refers to Billy Joel as an underrated artist because he was so anti-cool:
"But it's the constraints of that very relationship that give Billy Joel his subterranean fabulousity, and it's why he's unassumingly superior to all his mainstream seventies peers who got far more credit (James Taylor, Carole King, BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN, etc.)" (Pg 44)
Referring to the popularity of "Born to Run" (and Bruce as the epitome of cool) during the 1970's:
"But what nobody seemed to notice is that this song has some of the most ridiculous lyrics ever recorded. Half the time, SPRINGSTEEN writes like someone typing a PG-13 letter for Penthouse Forum: The lines "Just wrap your legs round these velvet rims / And strap your hands across my engines" is as funny as anything Tenacious D ever recorded, except BRUCE is trying to be deep." (Pg 46)
Chuck goes on to rip Bruce (and his fans, for that matter) a new one. I don't have the heart to continue to type this out. Or the heart to really debate it. Because for me, Born to Run is the greatest song of the last 50 years.
It's a testament to Chuck and his writing that I, that Bruce girl, could continue reading.
Aaaaaaaaaanway...I remembered that passage while standing in line at The Fitzgerald and thought "that's it. I'll bring that up. That will be funny. I'll ask him a good question about how anti-cool I am. Yeah, a good question. That won't be lame."
Oh how wrong I was.
I stepped onto the stage, handed Chuck the book, and had (basically) the following conversation.
Chuck (opening the book and signing): "Thanks Alexa"
Me: "Yeah. Thanks so much. uhh. Hey...if I fell in love with Bruce Springsteen in 2000, does that make me anti cool?"
Chuck: "What do you mean?"
Me (mildly panicking and completely rambling): "You know how you write how Billy Joel is cool because he's so anti-cool and Bruce Springsteen was the epitome of cool which makes him less so. Well i'm about 20 years late. So then i'm anti cool."
Chuck: "No way. Why would that make you uncool? Look at you. You're wearing a cut shirt. You're hip. You're a hipster."
Me (full on panic): no no no NO NO NO NO NO NO!
I then grabbed my book and ran off stage.
Oh god. No. I felt like I was reliving that scene from my highschool production of "Boys Next Door" in which I played a mentally handicapped girl whose only line was "no no no NO NO NO NO NO NO!"
I'M NOT A MOTHERFUCKING HIPSTER! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I have a complex with this because it's not the first time someone has called me a hipster. Seriously, I'm so awkward and loud and uncool. And not in that ironic way.
(Evidence: My Friday Night Self Portrait Session that included 80's Monkey Loving)
But I do love ripped t-shirts and leggings and leg warmers and eye liner and Bright Eyes and all that shit. Still, I'm not a motherfucking hipster. MOTHERFUCK!
Sigh. Oh well. At least I have a signed copy of "Killing Yourself to Live." I still very much love you Chuck. Though, to you, I am that semi-retarded adamently opposing hipster.
I'm over it. Until next time, that is.
Chuck Klosterman with Tapes 'n Tapes at The Fitzgeral Theatre in St. Paul
Afterwards, Chipmunk drove us to the Cabooze to meet up with everyone. Unfortunately, we has missed Dance Band opening. Omaur Bliss was fun for the first two songs of their set. The rest were just boring and seemed like endless repeats of those first two songs (though they provided some stellar photograhpy opportunities.) So we drove to Seward Luce, naturally.
SATURDAY
a day that left me with a new piercing**
a day that played "the storm of the century"
a night that snowed a foot
a night of spaghetti and several bloody marys
a night of midnight sledding and hot cocoa
a night of strange pants and hugging my Chipmunk and Little Lamb on the hill
a night in a strange master bedroom
a night that feels like it never happened
a next morning that had five of us in one bed together
with all our clothes on, mind you
one less familiar than others
all laughing and screaming staring out the master bed window
at the results of the snowed in blizzard "storm of the century"
for those twelve hours we were a family
SUNDAY
Hungover with ginger beer, grilled cheese, a funny lesbian and a golden statuette.
**It's called the conch.
When Mama inevitably sees the piercing, if Mama acts shocked and/or disappointed, I'm just gonna tell Mama "at least it wasn't a tattoo."
While trying to remember the name of the specific piercing this Monday evening, the first word that popped into my head was chode. So very very wrong. And maybe just a little right. YOWZA!
PS While editing this entry, I am listening to my early copy of Jesse Malin's soon to be released "Glitter in the Gutter." My heart stopped when I heard Bruce's eiptome-of-cool voice. I had forgotten that he was a guest on the album. 'Twas a splendid surprise!
I have learned that one should never try to "say something" when she meets someone famous whom she respects. Never ever.
I stood in line clutching my copy of "Killing Yourself to Live". Chuck Klosterman had just been interviewed by Mary Lucia and Tapes n' Tapes had played several different songs. Chuck was hilarious, arrogant and awesome. I thought about my earlier experience meeting Amy Sedaris and how I had been so idol struck, I couldn't speak. I swore the same situation wouldn't happen with Chuck. So I thought about what I would say. I thought about paragraphs in his books that affected me the most. And there is one that really REALLY resonated with me. I have this habit, with any music related book, of looking at the glossary to see what has been written about Bruce Springsteen. Because he's the man. Alas, Chuck hadn't thought so...
A chapter from "Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs" that refers to Billy Joel as an underrated artist because he was so anti-cool:
"But it's the constraints of that very relationship that give Billy Joel his subterranean fabulousity, and it's why he's unassumingly superior to all his mainstream seventies peers who got far more credit (James Taylor, Carole King, BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN, etc.)" (Pg 44)
Referring to the popularity of "Born to Run" (and Bruce as the epitome of cool) during the 1970's:
"But what nobody seemed to notice is that this song has some of the most ridiculous lyrics ever recorded. Half the time, SPRINGSTEEN writes like someone typing a PG-13 letter for Penthouse Forum: The lines "Just wrap your legs round these velvet rims / And strap your hands across my engines" is as funny as anything Tenacious D ever recorded, except BRUCE is trying to be deep." (Pg 46)
Chuck goes on to rip Bruce (and his fans, for that matter) a new one. I don't have the heart to continue to type this out. Or the heart to really debate it. Because for me, Born to Run is the greatest song of the last 50 years.
It's a testament to Chuck and his writing that I, that Bruce girl, could continue reading.
Aaaaaaaaaanway...I remembered that passage while standing in line at The Fitzgerald and thought "that's it. I'll bring that up. That will be funny. I'll ask him a good question about how anti-cool I am. Yeah, a good question. That won't be lame."
Oh how wrong I was.
I stepped onto the stage, handed Chuck the book, and had (basically) the following conversation.
Chuck (opening the book and signing): "Thanks Alexa"
Me: "Yeah. Thanks so much. uhh. Hey...if I fell in love with Bruce Springsteen in 2000, does that make me anti cool?"
Chuck: "What do you mean?"
Me (mildly panicking and completely rambling): "You know how you write how Billy Joel is cool because he's so anti-cool and Bruce Springsteen was the epitome of cool which makes him less so. Well i'm about 20 years late. So then i'm anti cool."
Chuck: "No way. Why would that make you uncool? Look at you. You're wearing a cut shirt. You're hip. You're a hipster."
Me (full on panic): no no no NO NO NO NO NO NO!
I then grabbed my book and ran off stage.
Oh god. No. I felt like I was reliving that scene from my highschool production of "Boys Next Door" in which I played a mentally handicapped girl whose only line was "no no no NO NO NO NO NO NO!"
I'M NOT A MOTHERFUCKING HIPSTER! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I have a complex with this because it's not the first time someone has called me a hipster. Seriously, I'm so awkward and loud and uncool. And not in that ironic way.
(Evidence: My Friday Night Self Portrait Session that included 80's Monkey Loving)
But I do love ripped t-shirts and leggings and leg warmers and eye liner and Bright Eyes and all that shit. Still, I'm not a motherfucking hipster. MOTHERFUCK!
Sigh. Oh well. At least I have a signed copy of "Killing Yourself to Live." I still very much love you Chuck. Though, to you, I am that semi-retarded adamently opposing hipster.
I'm over it. Until next time, that is.
Chuck Klosterman with Tapes 'n Tapes at The Fitzgeral Theatre in St. Paul
Afterwards, Chipmunk drove us to the Cabooze to meet up with everyone. Unfortunately, we has missed Dance Band opening. Omaur Bliss was fun for the first two songs of their set. The rest were just boring and seemed like endless repeats of those first two songs (though they provided some stellar photograhpy opportunities.) So we drove to Seward Luce, naturally.
SATURDAY
a day that left me with a new piercing**
a day that played "the storm of the century"
a night that snowed a foot
a night of spaghetti and several bloody marys
a night of midnight sledding and hot cocoa
a night of strange pants and hugging my Chipmunk and Little Lamb on the hill
a night in a strange master bedroom
a night that feels like it never happened
a next morning that had five of us in one bed together
with all our clothes on, mind you
one less familiar than others
all laughing and screaming staring out the master bed window
at the results of the snowed in blizzard "storm of the century"
for those twelve hours we were a family
SUNDAY
Hungover with ginger beer, grilled cheese, a funny lesbian and a golden statuette.
**It's called the conch.
When Mama inevitably sees the piercing, if Mama acts shocked and/or disappointed, I'm just gonna tell Mama "at least it wasn't a tattoo."
While trying to remember the name of the specific piercing this Monday evening, the first word that popped into my head was chode. So very very wrong. And maybe just a little right. YOWZA!
PS While editing this entry, I am listening to my early copy of Jesse Malin's soon to be released "Glitter in the Gutter." My heart stopped when I heard Bruce's eiptome-of-cool voice. I had forgotten that he was a guest on the album. 'Twas a splendid surprise!
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