Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

krisis

Krisis has been creating Crushing Krisis since 2000, writing songs since 1996, and reading comics since 1991. He is a Customer Success and Digital Brand Strategy executive, serial organizer, parent, and feminist, among other things. Based in Philly through 2017, he now resides in Wellington, NZ.

28 years, 51 weeks: intro

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It is six thirty-five in the morning, and I am on my way to work to begin raising hundreds of thousands of dollars for charity for two hours before doing my actual job.

I slept about three hours last night. I have eight-hundred more words due on a freelance assignment before midnight tonight and then rehearsal for the next two nights. I’ll have Thursday night to myself, unless I go out to see the show I’d like to see. Somewhere in there I have to fold some laundry and edit and upload a few gigabytes of videos for three different bands.

All that, and turn 29, on Wednesday.

Sometimes I don’t know how I’m supposed to do it – be this thing that I so desperately want to be. Like some Sisyphean Looney Toons sketch, I feel like I’m constantly plugging leaks in a giant dam only to have a new one spring for each I’ve stopped.

Can I be a successful professional in good shape with a happy marriage, an evening music career, a well-kept home, and writing gigs on the side?

Last week I tried to do it all. I was moderately successful, but it meant I was too busy to blog about it at the time. Does it defeat the purpose of being moderately successful if I don’t have time to blog about it?

Well, I’m making the time now. I’ll be moderately successful, damnit.

Critical or Contrary?

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Critical or contrary – which one are you? More importantly, can anyone else tell the difference?

The topic is on my mind thanks to something Gina said to me a few weeks ago. E and I were chatting with Gina after the last show of her Fringe Fest play. We joked about different narrative structures – ways her play of three connected one-acts could be turned backwards or inside out to get a different reaction.

(I know, nerds, right?)

At some point this phrase emerged from my lips:

That would be very Nolan-esque – like Inception, only without being awful.

Now, I don’t want to get into Inception drama – we’re all entitled to an opinion. I typically love Nolan, but what’s relevant here is people who liked Inception outnumber the dislikers nine to one and I’m in the “dislike” camp.

That’s where Gina’s response comes in. She whipped her head over to me and said,

Oh, Peter, you’re just contrary.

After years of having buck teeth and big ears, very few insults get under my skin, but this one cut deep.

I protested, “I’m not contrary! I’m just critical. I like plenty of things other people like. Twitter! Dark Knight! Lady Gaga!”

Despite my protests, Gina stuck to her label. To her, I’m contrary – I frequently dislike things enjoyed by a majority.

I don’t see that as contrary – just critical. If my reasoned response is to dissent on a musician or a movie while 90% of the world loves it, that’s part of my critical barometer. If you don’t like Inception either, maybe you’ll agree with some of my other opinions. Whole recommendation engines have been built on this idea, like Netflix and Hunch.

Disagreeing just means I’m critical, not contrary. Right? If we all agreed all of the time, what would be the point of art?

Let’s return to my opening query: critical or contrary – which one are you?

The answer is probably both. It depends on the perspective.

Like the proverbial stopped clock, any committed critic is going to come off contrary sometimes, just like a dedicated contrarian can still hit the critical mark on occasion.

Your challenge is that people listen to critics and ignore what’s contrary. When you’re the odd one out as a critic you still have to frame your opinion in a way that can engage and inspire your audience – even if that’s just your best friend.

Which one am I? In my head I’m a critic, and when it comes to music almost everyone  I know trusts me to be one – because I offer reasoned opinions about everything from Gaga to Rodrigo and Gabriella. With movies, if I only take the time to dish on popular films I dislike (which are numerous) clearly I’m coming out all wrong. If I want my disappointment in Inception to be taken seriously maybe I need to dial up my enthusiasm about movies slipping past other people’s radars.

What about you?

rodrigo and gabriella.

Things To Do In Philly, 9/14 Edition

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Another week of my handpicked things to do in Philly!

I didn’t get to experience any my own recommendations last week, as I was pretty busy on my own with rehearsals and a gig. This week is more of the same, so I’m hoping you can attend some of this awesome stuff in my place.

The pickings are a little slim this week, but there is one main event that I strongly endorse…

Thursday 9/16
Who: Your humble author’s harmony-packing duo, Arcati Crisis
Details: 8pm @ Tin Angel, $10
Why? This is our second headlining show at the Tin Angel, and we’re splitting it with our friend Dante Bucci, a hang drummer who must be seen or heard to be believed. Oh, and he leads us by millions of YouTube view. Yeah, I said millions.

Here’s a smattering of other things to do in Philly:

Friday 9/17
What: Absinthe tasting
Details: 6:30–8:30PM, Hudson Beach Glass Philadelphia, $36
Why? Sample local licoricesque liquor avec wormwood from Philadelphia Distillery and net a Hudson Beach glass in the process – worth the price of your ticket (literally), so the green drinks are effectively free.

Friday 9/17
Who: Christie Lenee & Dani Mari bands, respectively
Details: 9pm, Rox Box, $?
Why? Christie Lenee is one of the best guitarists I’ve ever met – she can can from Ani staccato to Hendrix shred in a matter of seconds. Dani Mari is a super-friendly host of many local open mics, and her tunes are catchy – reminds me of Martha Wainwright sans the whining :)

Wednesday 9/22
Who: Caustic dance-rockers Electric Six w/local guitar hero Boy Wonder
Details: 8pm, Kung Fu Necktie, $15
Why? I admit I’m not always the hippest when it comes to rock bands. Case and point: Electric Six. I hate them, but Gina, Wes, and seemingly everyone else I know adores their ridiculously sarcastic four-on-the-floor rock. Worth experimenting on this cheap gig, especially since the underbill includes the always-strong Boy Wonder.

Bad Good Gig or Good Bad Gig?

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Gina and I played an Arcati Crisis set at Collingswood 2nd Saturday this weekend – an outdoor gig singing on the street to folks exploring the restaurants and events on Haddon Ave.

By any objective measure, it was a good gig. We played for almost two solid hours, we drew crowds of passers-by multiple times, we gave away half of our CDs, and we even reaped a significant amount of donations from our pseudo-busking!

Arcati Crisis playing Collingswood 2nd Saturday, as shot by Jay Donahue.

However, subjectively the gig sucked. I was angsty from the start when the band before us ran over a bit. I didn’t feel like our mics were balanced, and I couldn’t hear my guitar. I broke a string that’s only two weeks old in the middle of “Video Killed the Radio Star.” I was distracted when donations started to blow out of Gina’s guitar case. I completely forgot any semblance of chords to “Standing.” I lost the roadmap on “Hungerstrike.” I was a measure behind on the bridge of “Moscow, Idaho.”

In my musical life I have my off moments and flubbed changes, but I never miss entrances or get out of sync. I just don’t. Yet on Saturday I was so out of sorts that I literally stopped our set halfway through to play a solo song in a desperate attempt to regain my focus.

This morning I wrote Gina an email, partially stating:

My head was just in a completely other place, and I could not get completely centered again. It was really unprofessional and I feel shitty about it.

Then I stopped by my colleague Jay’s cube, and the first thing he said was:

You were really awesome on Saturday.

And, you know what? I don’t think it was just Jay who felt that. I feel like we got more smiles and complements during the set on Saturday than we’ve ever had at that sort of background music gig ever before.

What’s the secret?

I suppose there’s something to that reckless abandon of messing up and and moving on. A decade ago I was more apt to say “art is in the imperfections,” but now I prefer to deliver the same perfect performance every single time.

Decade-ago Peter would ask me, “What’s the point of that?”