Crushing Krisis

The Newest Oldest Blog In New Zealand

Archives for March 2010

Emotional Spring Cleaning

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I should be subjected to some sort of electric shock of increasing frequency and severity whenever I let posting lapse for more than seven days. I wonder if there is a WordPress plugin for that.

Failing that, I at least have a persistent nagging in the depths of my soul. PETER, growls my inner OCD Godzilla (a voracious blog reader), YOUR BLOG IS STALE. A week and a half, maybe he can bear. Two weeks and he starts exhaling tiny wafts of smoke from his nose, and I’m like, Godzilla doesn’t breathe fire, right?

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I read a lot of blogs about betterment, simplification, and frugality. They all dole out advice about organizing and eliminating – make a clear surface or a paid off credit card, and then it’s easier to avoid the things you would clutter it with.

I’ll never quite attain that clear-surface perfection in my physical existence, but this past year I’ve been struggling to get there in my intellectual life.

A little over a year ago I had a lot of stuff on every surface of my mind. Event-planning. Marriage. Marketing. Songwriting. Blogging. Some piles were deeper. Identity management. Seemingly unfixable relationships.

For the past year every time I read one of those decluttering blog posts, instead of decluttering my desk or my bureau I decluttered some recess of my psyche.

It was scary for a while. I jettisoned some stuff I thought was pretty central to my existence. But you know what? None of it was. I am a husband, a songwriter, a blogger, a music-lover, a communicator, and an occasional activist.

All of the other stuff is just ornamentation, and there’s a thin line between emotional tchotchkes and emotional clutter.

And, anyway, OCD Godzilla needs a lot of space to roam. He is a free-range imaginary beast of the psyche.

Powerless in New Jersey

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I am supposed to be in New Jersey.

Yesterday was the closing night of bro-in-law’s final high school musical. Three years ago he had never acted, and last night we were supposed to see him sing an act full of solo songs and take a bow for the final time on his high school stage. And not just him. We’ve watched his castmates transform from shy Sophomores to powerful performers, most of whom we’ll probably never see again.

However, there was the problem of the rain.

In Philly it was just oppressively dreary, but as our car crept northward through NJ it became obvious that the effects of the storm were a little more tangible in our adjoining state.

First, a flooded road. Then, a route with power lines hanging over the road at a precarious 45-degree angle over the asphalt. Next, a traffic accident. Subsequently, downed trees.

When we finally arrived in E’s hometown we discovered the entire township or borough or whatever it is was without power! Even the high school, as her brother informed us sullenly via text.

There would be no closing night.

We drove carefully into E’s family’s cul de sac, black as pitch. After commiserating about the show we ate dinner by candlelight. When we were done, I excused myself to the adjoining room to bang on an out-of-tune piano I’ve been promising to have tuned for years.

As I bashed through cover songs, carefully avoiding the most dissonant keys, I contemplated.

We had ascribed so much value and meaning to the closing night. We came for the opening weekend too, but the last show was supposed to be extra special. Now, it didn’t exist. No final hurrah for the cast to sing even better or for us to clap even louder.

We didn’t get a closing night, but I’m still just as proud of our brother. And, in retrospect, I clapped just as hard as I could clap when we saw him last weekend.

The significant thing was really how many times I’ve seen him bow over the past three years – and how proud and loud I have been the entire time.

The significance isn’t in the next moment – it’s in the last ones. It’s in the moments of progress, not just the destination.

We loaded up the car to head home rather than brave the blackout for the night. Two minutes from E’s house we noticed a Target sign, lit up in red.

The power was back.

Bathed in the neon glow of stores powering up from their slumber, I wondered about my moments. Am I living my life now, or waiting for the next chance to live it? Am I waiting for the next show to play better? Waiting for the right moment to kiss E like I mean it?

Our route home was flooded, and E wanted to turn back. I rested my head on her shoulder as we paused in the jughandle, awaiting our turn.

“Do you want to go home to Philly?” I asked her?

She nodded yes.

“Then we’ll find a way to get there.”

A New Band a Day

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E has a way of ferreting out great new blogs out of nowhere.

Recently one of her finds was an awesome Brit blog A New Band a Day, which provides literate, in-depth looks at young bands on a daily basis. Author Joe Sparrow is deft and opinionated, and the combination makes for a blog filled with love letters to music and withering op eds.

One such op ed that got my attention was “The Trouble With Live Gigs,” which lamented the false promise that live is the only way to hear music. I responded at length in comments, and Joe was so ultimately cool as to collect my commentary into a massive guest editorial, which runs today.

Head over to read The Trouble With Live Gigs: A Response, by yours truly. And stay awhile to discover and download new music.

Bonus new music: Want the Philly local equivalent of New Band a Day? Philebrity just posted ten of their favorite tracks from Philly’s indie music scene, with photos, writeups, and streams for each band.

Open Mic-ing: Crossroads to McGillin’s, and the distance between

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Last night I got it in my head to undertake a feat that I have only succeeding in once before – attending two open mics in one night.

This is especially tricky for me, since I turn into a very unmusical pumpkin if I stay out past midnight, but this week I had motivation – I was determined to get my new tune “Dumbest Thing I Could Do” out of my living room (where I blurrily video-demoed it earlier this week) and into the ears of as many people as possible.

Thursdays present a perfect non-pumpkin opportunity to do just that. First, hit the early open mic at Crossroads hosted by my dear friend Victoria Spaeth. Then hit a standard-timed one, playing in the first half. A popular choice is to hit nearby Buckets bar & Grill after Crossroads, but that puts me farther from home. Instead, I substituted McGillin’s, a super-popular pub in Center City.

Crossroads Coffee
Crossroads is an unpretentious coffee shop on Ridge Avenue in Roxborough/Manayunk. The counter at the front the shop opens up to a two-story, all-wooden room complete with a wrap-around balcony on the second level.

While I wish it had more of their comfortable armchairs and that the balcony was given more attention, I love the space for its golden natural acoustics. You barely need amplification. Also, the staff is super-friendly (shoutout to MIKE!) – full of suggestions of pescetarian food and their favorite drinks (last night: chai latte with a shot of espresso, which would have turned me into a human squirrel, so I just had tea).

The open mic was front-loaded with a lot of my favorite Philly performers. Vicky is quickly becoming one of the best singer-songwriters in the entire Philly scene, and now that she plays with a band it’s a rare treat to see her solo – especially doing newer tunes like “Electric Love.” (I’m still hunting a solo version of “Breathe & Release,” which may wind up being my song-of-the-year if she finishes recording the damn thing).

After our back-to-back sets I caught up with Joshua Popejoy (disclosure: client; awesome acoustic rocker) who is putting the finishing touches on a solo record bearing the title After the Ash. I have been dying for a studio version of at least half of the tracklist, so I encouraged him to FINISH IT ALREADY! (I can shout these things because I actually finished my own long-promised solo record.)

I also chatted up my open mic buds Bill McConney and Alec Stewart, both in fine form. Plus, Aaron Brown, who I’ve rhapsodized over previously. He’s got a songwriters-in-the-round show coming up at Tin Angel on 4/15.

Crossroads Coffee House. Thursday night open mic, signup ~6:30pm, music ~7:15pm. Usually limited to ten acts, two songs each. 6156 Ridge Ave., Philly, 19128. (Hint: Take the 9 bus from Walnut up Ridge Ave.)

After another songwriter (whose name I missed! I’m lame!) I had to excuse myself to bus down to CC, though in retrospect I could have spared another half hour. Deposited at Broad & Chestnut (by a Septa bus that did its best to run me over while I stood INSIDE THE BUS STOP), I wandered in a circle trying to remember which street leads to the special Underland occupied by McGillin’s.

McGillin’s
McGillin’s is the oldest continuously operating tavern in Philadelphia. It’s tavern in the classic sense – not dive-y in the least, a menu full of hearty, affordable food, and a lengthy beer list.

The best time you can have there is with a big crowd – either of your own making, or during one of their famously great karaoke nights. However, it’s a Philly open-secret that they also host an open mic night on Thursdays in their upper level, with its 20-foot antique oak bar.

The McGillin’s open mic is cool for a few reasons. The aforementioned food is high on the list. The setup includes a raised stage, sturdy stools, and a spiffy pair of wireless mics. The room can be still packed from happy hour, which gives you an audience happy to sing along to covers. And, host Mark is the friendliest possible dude in the world – affable, knowledgeable, and he makes me feel like I’m playing Madison Square Garden.

Last night the lineup was sparse, which meant mega sets for all. I played a monstrous five songs, including “Bad Romance” (HUT!) and a slinky, sweaty, rocking version of “Dumbest Thing I Could Do” (YES!).

While Mark played I got to know Philly bassist Mitch Beer. Mitch splits time between his supergroups BAM! and Soulfatronic while gigging with other local and national acts. He toured with Diggable Planets last fall, and might be heading out with them again soon! A very cool dude I hope to meet again.

McGillin’s Old Ale House. Thursday night open mic, signup from 9pm, start varies. 1310 Drury St., 19107. (Hint: Walk south on 13th from Chestnut; Drury is on your right.)

All in all, a great night of music. I even made it home before pumpkin time!