If you were wondering who won the HUMP! Tickets, I awarded them to the neologism “Bowling for Jesus,” which is now the only term I’ll ever use to refer to anal sex. Thank you Conrad for your disgusting and hilarious and (bonus!) apparently religiously twisted mind. Enjoy the porn, you dirty perv!
HUMP!, by the way, is Friday and Saturday, and I believe you can still get tickets. You should. I know we’re all feeling icky and defeated by #metoo and Harvey WeinerStain. I didn’t participate in the online frenzy, but if you’ve been sticking with me here at HOT TRASH Worldwide Headquarters, you probably already know that I endured a violent sexual assault because I’ve written about it before. It’s just that it wasn’t fashionable to listen/acknowledge rape at the times that I wrote about it.
Why yes, I did just imply that it is fashionable to finally listen to rape victims right now. Which means that it will also at some point go back out of fashion. How about that. What does that do to your innards? CYNICISM IS MY SUSTENANCE.
HOWEVER, just a reminder, again, guilt and making you “feel bad” is not the point of #metoo. The point is to make change. And with something like HUMP! you get to see joyfully consensual, body-pos, sex-pos stuff from all over sexuality’s weird, wide, fascinating terrain. It’s a chance to relearn what consensual, joyful sex is and separate it from the pain and terror of violence and unmitigated power differentials. It’s fine to fuck. You just gotta fuck people who also want to fuck you back.
Fuck is such a gross word, isn’t it. I say it all the time, and I think I'm gross too. What about “make love?” OH GOOD GOD GROSS I CAN’T EVEN WITH MAKE LOVE EW I TYPED IT AGAIN WHAT’S HAPPENING TO ME.
Ok I love you enjoy all the consensual and mutually pleasurable sticking of your appendages into other people’s orifices and vice versa that you’ll be doing this weekend. Maybe do some Bowling for Jesus, even, if everyone’s on the page. You’ll figure it out.
Friday October 20
I think at this point it’s ok to call batty jazz and Americana composer/guitar player Bill Frisell iconic - but only to a certain set of people. You’ve no doubt heard his name before. Whether you’ve seen him play likely depends on how much of a music nerd you are. He’s sort of everywhere if you know where to look, like fungus or cockroaches. He’s at Blue this Friday, and it’s a neat opportunity to hear one of those workhorses who has flavored so much of the contemporary American music landscape.
One of my best friends made an album and is releasing it at Empire on Friday. You guys know Brooke Binion, she’s the blonde maniac who looks like the female reincarnation of Kurt Cobain running around Congress Street in the same way-too-big clothes every day with a giant backpack filled with cables, adapters, pliers, gaffer tape, all the trappings of a very prepared sound engineer. I’ve seen Brooke, buzzed on breakfast gin and tonics, fix the sound system on a sailboat. I’ve seen her disappear into the woods with nothing but a coil of extension cords and a multi tool and fix a generator - without being asked to do so - supplying electricity to a huge outdoor event. She rewired a film projector motor for me once on the opening night of the first Twilight movie and basically prevented a Twihard riot. She’s a mechanical genius, I’m pretty sure she can fix almost anything.
Her new album, “Jane Doe Embryo,” is one of those situations in which someone allows ideas to cook for a long time before putting them on paper. Watching that process unfold has been really beautiful and inspiring and mysterious in that way where you get a little glimpse and you’re like, OH THIS IS WHAT SHE’S DOING, OK, I GET IT. For all of its reliance on old tropes, this album turned out just really really fresh and listenable and relatable. Plus there’s really nothing in this world quite so excellent as seeing someone like Brooke exorcise her demons on stage by screaming like a banshee, tangled in cords and hair. Scream along! We all want to, because FUCK THE PATRIARCHY.
Anyway, TheWorst, The Silks, Cape Cannons and Lyokha Boys are at Empire on Friday for TheWorst’s “Jane Doe Embryo” release show. Here’s a song, enjoy it. I SAID ENJOY IT, MOTHERFUCKER:
The Fogcutters are doing something called Fogtoberfest, which I suspect is just a concert in October with the Fogcutters, but anyway, they’re at PHOME with OC and the Offbeats.
Spectrobot, Port City Saints, Some Kind of Nightmare and The Undead are at Live at 212. This show is free.
Rhum lately seems to have been wading deeper and deeper into the veritable swamp of sadness known as the Local Live Music Scene, with Danny and Jake apparently doing 4th Fridays at our city’s tiki bar of record while also on the same night somehow doing their 3rd Friday at Bull Feeney’s? I don’t know how you fit four Fridays into only 20 days of a month either, but in this climate of fake news, who the fuck even knows how many days a week is supposed to be anymore? Knowing how many days in week bad for country. Calendar zealots nasty to Trump. Sad!
AYKM? Tapes shows up once again to give us their latest wacky thing called Dark Daniel’s Birthday Masquerade with Nice Life, Crunchcoat and Backyard Posse. This is basically a big friend party of all the musicians associated with AYKM? and I don’t know who Dan Smith is, but I like his seasonally relevant moniker Dark Daniel. I wish I had something like that for myself. Virulent Victoria. Vampish VK. Vitriolic V. None of them have the simple beauty of Dark Daniel. *Le Sigh.*
Scissorfight, retired-band-that-appears-to-be-having-difficulty-staying-retired Murcielago and Roadsaw are at PCMH and please note that if you bring your ticket, wristband, some kind of proof you were at this show over to Empire the same night, you get a discount on getting into TheWorst’s album release show. Bonus.
Aura has a Bon Jovi tribute band. Who the fuck cares. See, this is the problem with economic disparity when it comes to the arts - the only people with access to disposable income at this point are old enough to rarely go out, and when they do they want to see something they already know all about. It’s comforting, a break from the existential dread and economic terror of end-of-days capitalism. It’s palliative care for the middle aged middle class.
It’s also fucking pathetic. Look, I’M “OLD” TOO. That doesn’t mean I have to fucking roll over and fatten up and eat what I’m spoonfed. I have a body, I have a brain, and I’m a fucking warrior until the day I die. WAKE THE FUCK UP. Remember WHO YOU ARE. Don’t you remember? You had spirit once, you were a warrior, you shined like a sunrise. Where did you go? Come back to yourself. You don’t even have to challenge yourself too much, I’m not saying go stand around at the Apohadion, but go to the Fogcutters tonight instead, go see Scissorfight, see something original, something new to you. Be brave. Be vulnerable. Take a risk. Be in the fucking world again.
Saturday October 21
Among the great joys of my music-seeing life, which includes tremendous delicacies like Bjork at Radio City Music Hall and Lou Reed at Carnegie Hall and The Beastie Boys at Hammerstein Ballroom and I could go on but I’M NOT TRYING TO NAME DROP, anyway, among these great joys nestles a lesser known oddity, Video Nasties’ performance of “God Only Knows” at the Brian Wilson tribute at Empire… last year? The year before? I can’t remember exactly when it was. It was hilarious, it was inspired, it was physical, it was fucking awesome. The stuff of legend? Possibly. So I heartily recommend enjoying them again at Apohadion tonight with County Line Bandits, Tarantua Brothers and Broken Genera. Who the fuck knows what version of the Nasties will show up, but they’re performers, and I truly wish more musicians put stronger stock into that aspect of their shows.
What a delight, John Nels Blanchette is at Munjoy Hill Tavern tonight and is up on FB defending his right to play Smashing Pumpkins tunes. You know, since it’s October. Look, man, I will tell you right now that we all want to hear you play Smashing Pumpkins tunes. They were a fucking awesome band and now they’re old and they didn’t keep their chops in good shape like some of the dinosaurs did and Billy Corgan is hanging out with Howard Stern talking about aliens and shit and the Pumpkins are just no longer available to us so now we have you playing covers for us instead. You have such a great voice for this and obvs we all know you can play these songs with your fucking eyes closed. Corg’ your heart out, boo.
Laura Cortese and the Dance Cards are at OLS releasing their new album “California Calling.”
A bluegrass band that chose to name itself Cabinet are at PCMH. When you google “cabinet” you get google shopping links to buy… cabinets, and then further down the page there are links to find out who is in Donald Trump’s cabinet. OK. So why not, say, Kabinet? Or Cabinette? Or let’s just take it out to the limit and say KAHBINEHT? Stylize it like that with all caps, pretty cool maybe. My point is that their band name does absolutely nothing to inspire me to go to their show. Yeah, I know they’re huge and everyone loves them, but I just no longer have any tolerance for a bunch of white men with banjos singing about pretty girls. My top of the pops Americana bucket is FULL UP. We had the Avetts. We had Yonder Mountain String Band. When will this trend die? Not that I’m invited or anyone wants me there anyway, I’m a big downer asshole who destroys every party I attend. I’m no dummy, I know nobody likes me, that’s why I never go out, and when I do, I lurk in the corner wearing all black. It’s urban camo, and I’m out hunting for shitty bands.
Sunday October 22
Ok, so who among you got tickets to see QOTSA? Precious few, I should think. Go and be free, my lucky friends, and enjoy this incredible show. For the rest of us, have you heard the Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me interview with Josh Homme? It’s a singular delight, I love it when infamous nerd Peter Sagal has to interview rock stars and people like Kim Kardashian. He’s so good at it.