What the Heck Should I Do Tonight: Progressive Natural Gas Utility Wine Drunk Edition!

Here’s the kind of day I had: today, I had a day that ended in me leaving work, heading directly to Trader Joe’s for wine that retails for less than six dollars and a chocolate babka, returning to my car and opening up and consuming both the wine and the chocolate babka on the ride home while shouting to myself in the car about what a shitty week it’s been and how I want to punch things with my fists and also kick things with my feets, and then inexplicably getting “Two Princes” by the Spin Doctors stuck in my head.

On repeat.

I know what a prince and lover ought to be! I know what a prince and lover ought to beeeeeeee!

This song has no bass. Where is the bass? They make a real goddam big deal out of this bass player in this dumb, cardigan-centric video for a song in which you can hear no bass. Don’t watch it, it’s literally the worst video.

In not unrelated news, the singing, becardiganed hippie that fronted the Spin Doctors must have had some kind of Donnie Darko-esque channel peering straight from 1992 into 2017, because he managed to pen the line “you marry him, your father will condone you… how bow dah now?

I went to the HORDE festival on Randalls Island in… oh, I don’t know, some time in the very latest salad days of the 90’s probably, and while the most interesting thing about that day was the fact that I stepped in human shit while wearing overly long bell bottoms and birkenstocks, the other thing I remember is that the Spin Doctors performed and got super pissed that people were moshing to their songs. They were like, “if you guys don’t stop moshing, we’re going to stop this show.”

Calm down, sweater hippie. Don’t threaten me with a good time.

So anyway, based on my vehicular wine and babka consumption (have you ever picked up a whole babka like a Snickers bar and just taken a bite out of the end? It is both GLORIOUS and so, so shameful. Oh, so shameful), you can probably surmise that I have neither fucks to give nor dignity left this week. I cried EVERY DAY at work this week. EVERY. FUCKING. DAY. I am not crazy. But I feel stuff. I know stuff. And I feel stuff. HOW DO I TURN THAT OFF?

So now I’ve got some low lighting and some rose and geranium essential oils in the old diffuser on the coffee table and I’m wrapped up in a protective, second-skin-like hoodie, and I’m prepared to continue drinking this terrible wine out of this giant Unitil mug that I somehow inherited from the workplace. And I plan on getting progressively more drunk for you as I write this tonight, so that by the end I’m basically hamboned and loose, like your mom. We’ll see if the jokes can fucking improve any with the addition of 60 or so ounces of bad wine from a natural gas utility’s mug. I haven’t been drinking much booze lately, but I’m going all in tonight because life is a concrete trough of shit and also Spin Doctors.

If you want to call me baby, just go ahead now. And if you want to tell me maybe, just go ahead now.

Friday March 10

There is a benefit for the Maine ACLU at Port City Music Hall tonight. Spose and Weakened Friends anchor down this very killer lineup that also includes some of my favorites: Bright Boy, Jeff Beam and Sunset Hearts, along with Anna Lombard and Amarantos Quartet. It’s $10 adv and $15 dos, and $25 if you actually want to sit down at any point and have an extra $10 of disposable income. This money goes to the Maine ACLU. Do this.

Now, as we run headlong toward this thing, Weakened Friends has posited that if this post gets 100 likes, they’ll cover Sk8er Boi. Obviously I want this to happen so so bad, so go click Like and maybe I won’t cry every day next week. I’m more of a “Complicated” kind of girl myself, but I’ll take what I can get.

The Fogcutters are at PHOME with Eldemur Krimm, which is such an interesting pairing and it was great a couple years ago when they were together for Thanksgiving or whatever. I love Eldemur Krimm so goddam much. Still in my top 5 Portland bands.

When I first read this, I thought it said “The Sheckles,” with an L, and they’re from my homeland of New Jersey, land of a thousand Jewish humans, and I got excited, I was like, what is this some Klezmer punk shit? I was gonna call their road manager and be like, FOR THE LOVE CAN YOU PLEASE BRING ME SOME MATZOH BALL SOUP BEFORE I DIE UP HERE. But alas, it’s not a Jewish punk band from New Jersey, it’s just a band from New Jersey, because it’s actually “The Sheckies” with an I and not sheckles with an L. The Israeli currency is spelled “shekels” anyway. Harumph. They’re at HGT with Jimmy Jacked, No Good, The Labor Pains and Eyeball.

But seriously, can we get a klezmer punk band to come through here soon? I love Maine, but we don’t have enough Jewish people up here, not by a long shot. We need to Jew this place up a little bit, if I’m being honest. It just makes living way better.  

Rexy and the Bones are at Dogfish, Flask is hosting a Quick n Dirty Fundraiser from 5-7 for Maine TransNet and then has Foundation Friday, Plague is at Aura which is the new, incredibly dumb name for the Asylum (Aura sounds like one of those stupid ‘ultra lounges’ that served $15 neon-colored cocktails to bridge and tunnel folk so they could feel fancy, that were so popular when Paris Hilton and “The Hills” were things that people cared about), Blue has El Malo and Salvage has Cajun Aces.

Empire has a tribute to Biggie performed by Dray Senior and DJ Steady. I think a lot about how the landscape of contemporary hip hop would be different if Biggie and Tupac had not died. I mean, Biggie was only fucking 24 years old. He was a baby, and he was only 4 years older than me. He’d be 44 now - can you imagine what 20 years of experience and all of the tech he’d have had access to could have impacted his art? It’s devastating to think about, and it just kills me. Anyway, he died on March 9 1997, so I’m guessing this is a 20 year tribute show.

DRUNK CHECK #1: I’m taking a break to make some dinner and then consume the dinner. I have enjoyed one large Unitil mug of bad wine. More to come.

DRUNK CHECK #2: I am now too full from eating dinner to continue drinking Unitil wine. However, my public relies on me for journalistic integrity. Therefore, I soldier on. For you. FOR YOU.

Saturday March 11

Devendra Banhart is at PCMH. Remember when he had a topknot and was dating Natalie Portman? It appears that he is maybe touring behind his Ape in Pink Marble album, which came out about six months ago. It’s solid, and darker than his older shit, even if he’s not as terribly groundbreaking as he was 10 years ago, but who is, AMIRITE? Well anyway, I commend him for having a hard go of transitioning from indie to major label and still getting out here and doing these shows in our little market, it’s hard work and it’s worth it, and he’s sticking true to his art despite setbacks. I got mad respek for that shit. He’s bringing his own label support, H. Hawkline, ROGOV and Josiah Steinbrick. I’d tell you about them but they’re doing that annoying as fuck thing where they think it’s au courant to be super obscure and not tell anyone about themselves and just have like, a photo and tour dates on their web sites. Cool, cool, cool, less for me to write, but I will tell you that nobody has ever won any friends by being withholding.

As soon as the last Gen-X-er is gone and not a soul on earth knows what liner notes are anymore, some schmuck is going to be like, I JUST DISCOVERED LINER NOTES and suddenly every band is going to put out a physical album with 30 pages of handwritten liner notes and a million photos of themselves and, like, letters to the fans and shit like they’re Counting Crows circa 1997.

 Cheeeee-rist. Sweet boots, guy. 

Cheeeee-rist. Sweet boots, guy. 

HAHAHAHA JOKES we’ll all be dead by then, not just the Gen-X-ers. Or at least Mad Maxing it for water and not even paying a little bit of attention to music.

DRUNK CHECK #3: I took a break to work on something else for a little bit. But don’t worry, I kept drinking Unitil wine, so stuff is looking nice and fuzzy and I feel less like sobbing on the floor.

Local Sprouts is hosting a bill unique to their typical offerings: Clay Camero/Caethua, Tom Kovacevic, Bright Boy and Jerusha Robinson. This is such a weird bill, Caethua’s dark creepings and Bright Boy’s dreamy and plaintive beats don’t belong together in theory, but they totally belong together. This is fun let’s do it and also they have cake.

Attention Olds: the last local band you saw before settling down and having like 9,000 children and heartburn every night, Shufflin’ Tremble, is reuniting again at PHOME. There are like a million people in this band! I’m all about this, get off your old fat asses and haul down to PHOME tonight and represent goddamit.

Pilgrim, Heavy Temple, Hessian and Manic Abraxas are all at Geno’s tonight. Yer dooms and yer aggressives. Chaos Machine, Seize The Vatican, Weapons At Hand, Inside The Wires and Juboybe are all at Live at 212 because they haven’t yet crossed the Portland threshold to play at Geno’s. Who among you will be the first to take the leap?

Empire has a dnb/dubstep show: Butterfly Effect with Joe Nice and other guest DJs. I suspect this will be totally packed, wear layers and tip the bartenders all your money.  Flask has live music tonight with a handful of bands featuring The Empty and Sassquatch. Your second chance to see Amarantos Quartet is at Mayo Street Arts tonight. Salvage has Tail Light Rebellion. Blue has jazz.       

Lastly, Portland’s Lux Lives event - commemorating the life and times of Lux Interior of The Cramps, who is now dead and being shocking and androgynous alongside David Bowie in the afterlife no doubt - is at Bayside Bowl tonight. So here’s yer punkabillys and yer psychobillys and yer rockabillys - you’ve got The Tarantula Brothers, who are probably most right-on, genre wise, the Gamma Goochies and Thee Icepicks. Two djs will also assist in honoring the dead.

DRUNK CHECK #4: I am now very drunk. CAN YOU TELL? I can, but I live here. I can tell you that I'd really like some pancakes or potentially a German pancake, if I'm being honest. Mostly because it's soft and fluffy and I think I need to put my head down on something soft and fluffy immediately. 

OK, so I mean at this point it's just the normal course of the weekend, but just remember, be kind, tip your servers, don't drive drunk, don't do it, no not ever, not ever, and be genuine, you know what I mean? Like, just be you. YOU BE YOU! I mean seriously, chill out, what you yelling for? Lay back, it's all been done before, and if you could only let it be, you will see I like you the way you are, when we're driving in your car and you're talking to me one on one, but you become somebody else around everyone else, you're watching your back like you can't relax, you're trying to be cool, but you look like a fool to me. TELL ME: Why'd you have to go and make things so complicated? I see the way you're acting like you're somebody else gets me frustrated. Life's like this: you fall and you crawl and you break and you take what you get and you turn it into HONESTY and PROMISE ME I'm never gonna find you fakin'.