i have 15 minutes until my oat & honey facial mask begins to attack me, so i will ramble for exactly that amount of time. the train is whistling and the fridge is buzzing and my fingers are typing at a rate that many have described as "unhealthy". i am also hating present tense so i will break from it for now and tell you that holly P played yesterday at the Sky Yard - the one place in The Drake Hotel where indie rock kids fear not to tread lest they be trampled by an unruly Bay Street stockbroker on the prowl for a wife or jostled by a ne'er-do-well sporting a dude-ponytail. what is it with people who go out just to leer at other humans? is the company they brought that dull? anyway it was a chatty crowd but Holly soldiered on. Ron Sexsmith and I attempted to "form a front row" but we ended up sitting down like everyone else. KR saved the day with her trademark cheers. it was great to see Holly and hear some of her old soulful hits as well as some new tunes. she is on tour with Gnarls Barkley, crooning in his band of 13 members. before the night was over, KR told me about her recent trip to see Madonna at Madison Square Garden. it sounded insane. tonight i brought the Hot One record home for my parents, the first record i've been involved in that has a parental advisory sticker. my dad snapped his fingers to, i believe it was "Sexy Soldier". but eventually we had to turn it off because it was too abrasive, or at least that's what I thought as we sat down to dinner to the tune of "Slave". we allegedly got a thumbs up in Magnet and as you know critics are never wrong. instead of buying magazines though do yourself a favour and go buy Rilke's Letters To A Young Poet. it's my favourite thing lately. i read a letter before bed and it lasts forever.
nato makes us listen to Night Ranger before jordell and i leave the apartment to rehearse one last time. i believe we are even forced to listen to Rick Springfield, whose claim to fame in the 80's [in our opinions] was using the phrase "the point is probably moot" in order to rhyme with the word "cute". What tragic things happen when you try to appeal to the human love for rhyme. *sigh*
Anyway we rehearse and it is the best of the week. we are all singing and the vocals are coming together. this is not easy stuff to sing and play. i have been practising like i practised Two-Part Inventions when I was 13. it is like math, but once you get it you are flying.
an absolutely useless day, where the heat presses everyone to the pavement, chest first. i don't even remember Manila being this hot, it is a different kind of heat here in New York. you wish a massive magnet could just hang over the city and suck up all the cars and trucks and buses and then someone would come along and kindly jam your entire body into a refrigerator.
dee says a tornado touches down on the 401 back home.
we cancel rehearsal but while shopping, nathan manages to find blindfolds for our Hot One Al-Qaeda-style 30-second video we are sending down to the Rykodisc convention to apologize for our not being there.