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Wednesday, June 22, 2005


OH FUCK! OH SHIT! GREAT CUNTING COCKTITS!
I think I missed the generously extended deadline to “submit” to CMJ!!!
I could have played there!
Who plays there?
Why, only EVERYONE who MATTERS, that’s all!

It only costed something like 35 dollars to submit to CMJ and be considered for a coveted slot at one of the fabled performance venues of New York Cit-tay! AND I BLEW IT!

I been there before though. It’s so fucken great.
All these really interesting people from all over the place wander around wearing badges that get them in FREE to like every place where the chosen bands play, and these people are, like WRITERS and RADIO people and other IMPORTANT people who can really help you get noticed and it’s exciting cause you hear all the really great new artists and get all kinds of free compilations and flyers and other stuff! To KEEP!

I remember the last time I played a show for CMJ. It was at a place called “Knitting Factory” (which was once in another place which was once a real factory where knitting stuff got made) and most of my band, well, they weren’t really prepared to play, but they pretty much knew my stuff already so it was no big deal and anyway they had a benefit to play the next day and had to play several sets under various names and that was more important anyway. How much can one band be expected to prepare? I mean, SEVERAL SETS. That can add up! What… 20 songs maybe? Hey, it was cool. And the CMJ thing didn’t go so bad anyhow. Some of the cool college music type people who couldn’t get into the BIG show upstairs wandered in and stared for a while. I bet they’d even have clapped if they weren’t so tired out from handing out cdrs and being handed cdrs. These people really know music, too. They are familiar with EVERYTHING from IDM to to Black Metal. Definately the place to be.

Anyway, the band. Most of them had played before with me at another CMJ. That was at a place called “Thread Waxing Space” (which at one time was a real space where thread got waxed) with Ronnie Spector! That was an even better “gig.” The piano player mentioned to me a week or so beforehand that she had since been offered a WEDDING GIG the same day and couldn’t do my show unless I could PAY HER the amount she’d be losing by missing the wedding gig! What a conflict. Luckily, she graciously accepted partial payment from me and did CMJ with me anyway! That was swell, especially since the whole band had only just complained that I was “keeping all the money” from several lucrative shows at “Living Room” (I don’t think it had actually BEEN a real living room before, but maybe “Performance Alcove Around The Corner From Katz’s Delicatessen” would have cost a fortune to have painted on a sign). In fact, the guitarist, who told me he wouldn’t do the show at all, due to his disgruntlement over my bald-faced greed, changed his mind when I replied “Oh… OK... we'll do it wihout you then."

It was a great experience! A writer from a Long Island paper covered the show and wrote a long article about how sick she was from food poisoning and puked a lot and missed most of the set. but what she heard was pretty interesting in spite of what seemed to be the onset of diarrhea. Boy did I feel bad for her when I read the piece, but my folks were real proud of the last paragraph, where she discussed at length what I said before about our set being fairly good, she thought. And as a bonus, there was a picture of me, and whenever I want to recall what I wore that night, I can go to my clipping file and look at that article.

So here I am now, all out of sorts on account of I missed the deadline. So here’s what I’m thinking. Since this is so crucial to my career, what I’ll do is play a show at the new Living Room (which is a lot bigger than the old “Living Room” so if I was them I’d of called it “Liquor Selling Area” or something). Then I’ll keep all the money and bribe someone at another venue… maybe “Shoe Repair Nook” or “Remaindered Porn Paperback Warehouse.” It couldn't cost too much, minus the 35 dollars I would of paid anyway for the right to submit. I'll get the show, I swear. There I’ll sing my fucken balls off and maybe some really savvy kid from Grand Rapids Community College will play the free cd I give her on her show. Or maybe some really sharp kid from South Dakota will post a review online if I buy him a drink. I can see it now!

“…Me and Dylan were really drunk by now and wanted to get to the Bowery Ballroom to see Queef open for The Ocean and Pie, but we caught part of Sport Murphey’s set at “Bone Boiling Slum.” Murphey is an old-timer who’s songs reminded us of Magnetic Fields only not as smart. He seemed like a decent guy but his palms were sweaty. Anyway, Dylan met some chicks and...”

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