The Wisdom of the Illiterati


	Listening through the walls Jaq hasn't posted here (or, ahem, anywhere else) for a long time, but she contributed the following to Frank's APA, a conglomerate zine we've both signed up with. Since we're moving to a new place in a couple of weeks (it's only two blocks away but already feels like a different world), I thought it would be a good idea to post her first contribution to Frank's here, as it provides an accurate description of what our life has been like the last year. Also, I really like it. #1 The place two doors down from our flat advertises: "Live music 365 days". There wasn't any last night; it was blessedly and oddly quiet. Maybe due to leap year. Normal nights, from 9:30 pm to 1:30 am, we are awash in sound, and on busy or warm nights, the alley doors are opened and the heat and noise rush out, bouncing off the old bricks and iron fire escapes and rattling our windows. The first few weeks here, we decided there must be only three drummers in Seattle--the good one, the not very good one, and that one that can't keep a regular beat for love nor money. The good one exhibits not only regularity and rhythm, but versatility. Having more than one pattern is a valuable commodity. The not very good one has only grasped a single pattern and clings to it, slowing it down for the ballads, speeding it up and playing it harder for the up-tempo stuff. #2 I awaken myself from a dream I didn't want and lie there, still. The music is going; it must be near midnight, or maybe 1. It's the worst karaoke I have ever heard. But I don't recognize that song; what is she singing? It's flat, flat in pitch, flat in tone, flat in emotion. Not very good drummer is drumming and quietly, under her cowish overly-loud moan, is a noodling guitar. What is that song? Why aren't they turning down her vocal, s.o.p. for a bad karaoke singer? A break, and nothing but the crash of bottles tossed in the alley for a time. Then it starts again. But--she's back, the same flat monotone monochrome singer. Not karaoke then. #3 There are bands that warm up and sound check at 8 pm for a 9:30 show. They sound a) over-earnest or b) giddy when their sets start. There are bands that tune up at the beginning of their sets, single notes for 15-20 minutes. They sound a) stoned and b) lost when they play, and lose the thread, the beat, the lyrics, usually by the second song. There are bands where only the drummer does a sound check. Whump whump whump. Chick chick chick. Ponk ponk ponk. They sound a) surprisingly not drum-heavy and b) balanced. It's a mystery. #4 Sounds that carry, air division: hi-hat, struck mightily; empty beer bottles, bashed together in a plastic bag and tossed out in the alley; that one drum in the drum kit, the drum the arrhythmic drummer relies upon. #5 Sounds that carry, floorboards division: non-stop techno-bass from the club that does not have live music 365 days, and tries to make up for it with sheer volume once a week; the truck that washes down the alley at 5 am. #6 Our neighbor has an old old dog. When she's gone all day, she leaves Johnny Cash and John Mayer on to keep him company. He tries to escape by digging like mad along our shared wall. #7 Mondays are Heavy Metal Madness! But not so much lately; Mondays have been particularly quiet for several weeks. Speculation that all heavy metal bands have left for the winter. Tuesdays, however, are Punks-n-Pints and lately they have all been sounding like Gogol Bordello. There was a more avant-garde band two weeks ago that used the Arrhythmic Drummer and extreme randomness among the other players. They played 2 songs in 5 minutes and were gone. Later that night, after the bars close, a quite relaxed and happy gent sings loudly in the alley about how much he adores his cell phone. #8 Friday night, after closing, and the guys in the stock room of the rug store beneath us are having a heated discussion, as well as changing the rugs on the wall displays. Forceful Turkish is accompanied by the metallic squeak of pulleys and the scritching of something against the bricks below us, possibly one of those incredibly long CB radio antennas. On Sundays when they are closed for the entire day, someone comes in and plays odd '80s and '90s semi-hits. Odd, because I recognize them and can sing along for parts, but to Robert, who is Mr. Music Trivia Extraordinaire, they are not recognizable. #9 On Facebook, someone posts a poll about Mary Poppins, the movie. I do well, and explain to Robert how I remember the children's names by singing "The Perfect Nanny". "Feed the Birds" and the part of "I Love to Laugh" about "some people laugh through their teeth, goodness sake, hissing and fizzing like snakes..." stick in my brain for a week solid. I realize I know nearly all the lyrics to (and can sing) every song in this movie, as well as most of Annie Get Your Gun, George M, The Sound of Music, Carousel, Oklahoma, State Fair, and South Pacific. Having just read Oliver Sacks Musicophilia, I'm worried about what this might mean, at this stage of my life. #10 Eating dinner out has become more commonplace, now that we live in an urban location where it's possible (and often desirable) to walk 10 minutes and pass a dozen food purveyors. One Wednesday night, we step out and find a minivan has discharged a bluegrass band on the sidewalk, and they are furiously fiddling away, not badly at all. With a gasp and a collective sigh, they finish, shake it off, load back up in the van and continue south into the night. \| [Archives] Search entries:		top ten 1966 top ten OTHER OCCASIONAL RAMBLINGS Hail Blogoslavia! ~~100~~ 45 or so things about JSM The Saga of the Lone Biscuit OTHER BLOGS Blogroll Me

Listening through the walls

Jaq hasn't posted here (or, ahem, anywhere else) for a long time, but she contributed the following to Frank's APA, a conglomerate zine we've both signed up with. Since we're moving to a new place in a couple of weeks (it's only two blocks away but already feels like a different world), I thought it would be a good idea to post her first contribution to Frank's here, as it provides an accurate description of what our life has been like the last year. Also, I really like it.

#1
The place two doors down from our flat advertises: "Live music 365 days". There wasn't any last night; it was blessedly and oddly quiet. Maybe due to leap year. Normal nights, from 9:30 pm to 1:30 am, we are awash in sound, and on busy or warm nights, the alley doors are opened and the heat and noise rush out, bouncing off the old bricks and iron fire escapes and rattling our windows. The first few weeks here, we decided there must be only three drummers in Seattle--the good one, the not very good one, and that one that can't keep a regular beat for love nor money. The good one exhibits not only regularity and rhythm, but versatility. Having more than one pattern is a valuable commodity. The not very good one has only grasped a single pattern and clings to it, slowing it down for the ballads, speeding it up and playing it harder for the up-tempo stuff.

#2
I awaken myself from a dream I didn't want and lie there, still. The music is going; it must be near midnight, or maybe 1. It's the worst karaoke I have ever heard. But I don't recognize that song; what is she singing? It's flat, flat in pitch, flat in tone, flat in emotion. Not very good drummer is drumming and quietly, under her cowish overly-loud moan, is a noodling guitar. What is that song? Why aren't they turning down her vocal, s.o.p. for a bad karaoke singer? A break, and nothing but the crash of bottles tossed in the alley for a time. Then it starts again. But--she's back, the same flat monotone monochrome singer. Not karaoke then.

#3
There are bands that warm up and sound check at 8 pm for a 9:30 show. They sound a) over-earnest or b) giddy when their sets start. There are bands that tune up at the beginning of their sets, single notes for 15-20 minutes. They sound a) stoned and b) lost when they play, and lose the thread, the beat, the lyrics, usually by the second song. There are bands where only the drummer does a sound check. Whump whump whump. Chick chick chick. Ponk ponk ponk. They sound a) surprisingly not drum-heavy and b) balanced. It's a mystery.

#4
Sounds that carry, air division: hi-hat, struck mightily; empty beer bottles, bashed together in a plastic bag and tossed out in the alley; that one drum in the drum kit, the drum the arrhythmic drummer relies upon.

#5
Sounds that carry, floorboards division: non-stop techno-bass from the club that does not have live music 365 days, and tries to make up for it with sheer volume once a week; the truck that washes down the alley at 5 am.

#6
Our neighbor has an old old dog. When she's gone all day, she leaves Johnny Cash and John Mayer on to keep him company. He tries to escape by digging like mad along our shared wall.

#7
Mondays are Heavy Metal Madness! But not so much lately; Mondays have been particularly quiet for several weeks. Speculation that all heavy metal bands have left for the winter. Tuesdays, however, are Punks-n-Pints and lately they have all been sounding like Gogol Bordello. There was a more avant-garde band two weeks ago that used the Arrhythmic Drummer and extreme randomness among the other players. They played 2 songs in 5 minutes and were gone. Later that night, after the bars close, a quite relaxed and happy gent sings loudly in the alley about how much he adores his cell phone.

#8
Friday night, after closing, and the guys in the stock room of the rug store beneath us are having a heated discussion, as well as changing the rugs on the wall displays. Forceful Turkish is accompanied by the metallic squeak of pulleys and the scritching of something against the bricks below us, possibly one of those incredibly long CB radio antennas. On Sundays when they are closed for the entire day, someone comes in and plays odd '80s and '90s semi-hits. Odd, because I recognize them and can sing along for parts, but to Robert, who is Mr. Music Trivia Extraordinaire, they are not recognizable.

#9
On Facebook, someone posts a poll about Mary Poppins, the movie. I do well, and explain to Robert how I remember the children's names by singing "The Perfect Nanny". "Feed the Birds" and the part of "I Love to Laugh" about "some people laugh through their teeth, goodness sake, hissing and fizzing like snakes..." stick in my brain for a week solid. I realize I know nearly all the lyrics to (and can sing) every song in this movie, as well as most of Annie Get Your Gun, George M, The Sound of Music, Carousel, Oklahoma, State Fair, and South Pacific. Having just read Oliver Sacks Musicophilia, I'm worried about what this might mean, at this stage of my life.

#10
Eating dinner out has become more commonplace, now that we live in an urban location where it's possible (and often desirable) to walk 10 minutes and pass a dozen food purveyors. One Wednesday night, we step out and find a minivan has discharged a bluegrass band on the sidewalk, and they are furiously fiddling away, not badly at all. With a gasp and a collective sigh, they finish, shake it off, load back up in the van and continue south into the night.