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Philly

Arcati Crisis and friends Stand Up For Kids

November 24, 2008 by krisis

So, before all of that introspection crap started happening I was actually having an amazing weekend.

The story picks up mere seconds after my Friday post, which was interrupted by Dante’s appearance to ferry me and my various PA equipment to The Dark Horse on South Street for a benefit for Stand Up For Kids.

Stand Up For Kids is a nationally recognized and acclaimed charity that supports homeless and at-risk kids and teens. They offer many levels of service, from counseling children at risk for leaving home, to conducting outreach to kids on the streets, to staffing and maintaining outreach centers where teens can get help in obtaining a birth certificate or finding an apartment.

The Philadelphia chapter of Stand Up For Kids needs support to provide that full complement of services. Their benefit raised money towards supplies for their outreach packets – like juice boxes, deodorant, or sweatshirts – as well as for an outreach van that would allow them to be more mobile in their efforts.

Arcati Crisis has played a slew of shows this year, but the SUFK benefit ranks high amongst our favorites.

First, The Dark Horse Pub is a fantastic bar – one of my favorites in all of Philly. It’s just north of South on 2nd – across from Headhouse. The pub is comprised of multiple rooms that each have their own personality, all clean and comfortable and serving delicious food along with their drinks.

Second, the bill – we played with a lineup of people who we would go out of our way to see. Seriously. It was such a profoundly humbling experience to be listed in the middle of the people whose songs I hum while I walk down the street.

Joshua Popejoy, a model of sharp hooks and specific strumming, and increasingly my go-to for all discussions of mixing. Bill Butler, an outstanding songwriter and one of my favorite Philly vocalists, and the director of the charity The Philadelphia Sessions. Dante Bucci, a virtuosic percussionist who has transformed a zen instrument into a songwriter’s treasure, and who can engineer a PA solution for any space. Jon Glaubitz, an enormously talented guitarist and songwriter with a chameleonic ability to blend in anywhere – no matter if it’s a coffee shop or a rock club. And Andra Taylor, an arresting new voice on the Philly scenes, her hypnotically circular guitar riffs evoking a prism of contemporaries from Patti Griffin to Madonna. And, we made new friends – with David Miller and Jeremy Davis, performers we surely will see again in the future.

However, beyond all of those pleasures was the charity itself. SUFK volunteer, event organizer, and AC-fan Nina found the right venue to turn a gathering into a celebration, found the right music to fill it, and then packed the room to the very limit of its capacity.

Throughout the night Nina sent SUFK volunteers up to the microphone to share their stories about the organization while we set up for the next artist on the bill. The one that really caught me came after our performance – maybe because we were still trembling from a powerful closing swing through “What’ll I Say” and “Apocalyptic Love Song,” or maybe just because she was so very compelling.

She spoke about how she helped to found the Philadelphia chapter four years ago, and how at the time it was just a handful of people who wanted to make an impact. She spoke about how we all pass homeless children every day without realizing that we see them, partially because they so desperately don’t want to be homeless that they will do anything to blend in. She spoke about how – four years later – she is so energized by the enthusiasm of her fellow volunteers and the changes they effect in the world, but that they aren’t enough – they need more support and more volunteers to truly change the streets of Philadelphia.

When she was through I found myself with tears welling in my eyes.

All of these things we do take time. Four years ago Arcati Crisis was an in-joke name for our studio recordings. Four years ago Dante Bucci didn’t know what a hang drum was, and Andra Taylor had no idea she’d be living in Philadelphia.

In that four years we’ve devoted to ourselves, Stand Up For Kids has devoted itself to others, and because of our collective commitment we were able to come together last Friday to share and celebrate positive music and a positive message. We came together into a room as strangers to each other and left with a common cause.

That is the best kind of gig to play, and after the clouds of my weekend introspection clear on a bright Monday morning that is the memory that I’m going to take with me. Even if our music only made SUFK twenty dollars it was worth every minute of playing. If I could raise a thousand I would play for days at a time, stopping only to breathe.

Filed Under: arcati crisis, betterment, bloggish, memories, performance, Philly, philly music, Year 09 Tagged With: gina

fear and loathing in the back yard

November 23, 2008 by krisis

Our neighbors are keeping two small dogs in their back yard. They look like they could be puppy dobermans, but I’m really not sure. However, they’re definitely being kept – they’re not strays.

As far as Elise and I can tell they are living exclusively in the yard – to the point that it’s been cleared of various detritus and set up as a dog-proof enclosure that’s protected from access via the alley.

I wouldn’t mind any of that, except:

(A) Our bedroom is at the rear of the house, and I have been having trouble sleeping this month. It only takes a few barks to rouse me.

(B) It has been hovering near the freezing point for several days (it’s currently 29), and the dogs seem to have only a small carrier to retreat to for a respite.

(C) The colder it gets, the more the barking turns into sustained whining/crying.

These are not neighbors we ever speak to – usually they’re just standing around outside smoking blunts when we walk up to the house. At the same time, they’ve never been unfriendly or threatening, and they’ve never once complained about us playing music.

Elise looked into Philadelphia’s policies on animal control, and we’re within our rights to submit a report about the barking if it persists more than 15 minutes on an hour. Also, clearly we can call at any time about the cruelty situation.

I know what normal Peter – mouthy, empowered Peter – would do. I would ask them about the dogs when I come home from work tomorrow, advise them cheerily that the barking is keeping me up and that I’m worried that the dogs are cold at night, and advise them that I could call the SPCA on their behalf of they can’t find a solution.

Except, that Peter doesn’t live here anymore. Not since this summer, when a slight mouthiness resulted in our home being vandalized in a hate crime.

I haven’t talked about it much, here or to anyone else, including Elise. But, for the first time in my life, I’m afraid of being me. I don’t know how to speak up. In fact, I don’t really feel safe anywhere unless I’m surrounded by friends. I’m afraid to sing karaoke or talk to people in bars or on buses or travel to any suburban or rural area because if I am the wrong combination of soft and assertive and they don’t like me they’ll just try to degrade me or something that I hold valuable.

I’m stuck. I’m afraid to talk to the neighbors, even though signs point to their being at least a little friendly. I’m afraid if I call in the dogs the neighbors will assume it’s me, even though it could be any of the five yards adjacent to them.

I’m afraid if I’m me people will hate me.

It was hard enough to sleep for a month after what happened – constantly bolting upright every time I heard a sound anywhere adjacent to the house. I’m already nauseous every time I walk up to my door for fear of what it might contain. And, unrelated to that, I’m already ragged and tired at home and at work, verging on sick.

I don’t need barking dogs to compound the situation.

Filed Under: elise, gblt, identity, Philly Tagged With: cold, neighbors

November 21, 2008 by krisis

The state of me at the moment is outstandingly tired.

Last weekend was our trip to NJ, and the weekend before a crazy deadline for Trio and arranging. Just now Elise was whisked away by our darling Mary in top secrecy for her bachelorette party … which you would think is a recipe for a restful, sleepy weekend.

But, hello, this is Crushing Krisis. Either we’re crushed or we’re having a crisis.

So, with a spare thirty minutes after Elise’s departure I am due at the Dark Horse South Street with Gina to play a benefit for Stand Up For Kids alongside plenty of our favorite musical friends: Joshua Popejoy, Bill Butler, Dante Bucci, Jon Glaubitz, and Andra Taylor.

(I was actually just mentioning to a co-worker that I’ve played more spots this year as Arcati Crisis or individually than I had played combined as either in my life to date. That kindof blows my mind.)

And, um, i was going to write more but Dante is in my living room to pick me up and I haven’t packed a bag yet for the second half of the odessey: staying over in East Falls to help Kate and Lindsay MOVE INTO THEIR NEW HOUSE tomorrow before escaping for the Amanda Palmer concert oh my god do i even have any clean socks okay now i am going to hit publish

https://crushingkrisis.com/2008/11/3410/

Filed Under: arcati crisis, Engagement, Philly, thoughts Tagged With: mess

how to find great music in philadelphia

November 14, 2008 by krisis

Last night we were all gathered around the door of our show, trying to entice a small trickle of patrons from the downstairs bar to come up and enjoy the music while watching the game.

We’re a bit threatening in our overwhelming friendliness and team t-shirts, and so any time more than three of us congregated in a clump I made an effort to peel away and lurk somewhere else. Maybe if we were summer camp counselors, but at a concert the sight of eight people in matching t-shirts advancing on you can be a little disconcerting.

At one point I peeled in tandem with someone else, and we got to talking about our trickle of visitors. “We have such great music here,” they said. “Why don’t people want to come in and hear it?”

It’s certainly true that we had great music – probably the best three-songwriter bill Philly would see all month – Josh Albright, Bevin Caulfield, and Blueberry Magee and His Hot Five. And, it’s my job to be able to be able answer their question with sophisticated marketing plans and communications approaches.

Last night my answer was much simpler. “Most people just don’t know,” I explained, “that this music even exists.”

That’s not a matter of marketing or communication – it’s really education. Much in the way we live in a liberal bastion of a city and frequently underestimate the power of people’s ability to disagree with our beliefs, we have also ensconced ourselves in a local music community that puts a huge value on genre-bending and sheer-musicianship.

It’s a community that I didn’t even know existed until earlier this year, and I’ve been a musician in Philadelphia for years. I really thought I was going to walk into a bar one day with some original songs, play them, and that everyone would fall madly in love with me. And, well, maybe they will. But there are a lot of other people out there deserving of that love that I never knew existed.

This year my eyes have been opened to just how much music is in the air in Philadelphia every night of the week. So many open mics. So many amazing local artists playing shows. How on Monday one of the most amazing shows I’ve ever seen could play to a room of just two dozen people. How our best-bill-of-the-month was playing to a small crowd of dedicated listeners and a bar full of football fans.

I’ve been lucky to experience the thrill of playing to a full house more than once this year, but I’ve played to exponentially more empty or inattentive rooms. Nobody likes the latter. But, I’m starting to understand that you can’t just fill that void with communication – that just informs people you already talk to, or marketing – that just reaches out to people predisposed to you.

What you need to fill that void is education. People need to understand that this creative community exists, that there is diverse music to be heard, and that artists all around the city are striving for an opportunity to express themselves.

Last night’s show was not Lyndzapalooza‘s biggest success, but it might have been the best reinforcement of our mission. We exist to celebrate creative community, diverse music, and equally opportunity expression. And, that celebration extends past the people who we already talk to, and the people predisposed to like us.

The celebration is for everyone.

Filed Under: lyndzapalooza, Philly, philly music

Make You Feel Real Blue

November 13, 2008 by krisis

A few weeks ago Lindsay, Dante Bucci, and Bill McConney were playing a tiny living-room style show in a just-off-South coffee shop called Cafe Grindstone that had an entire vegan menu and a shelf of random used textbooks to peruse.

As I put back the book that taught me that pigeons are superstitious a flyer on a lower shelf caught my eye with a familiar logo – Alexandra Day.

I picked up the flyer and scanned it. A Monday night show at Tritone on South Street – not a twenty minute walk from my house – with one of the best songwriters in Philadelphia. Doesn’t take much convincing.

Then I continued to read. She would be splitting a bill with a band whose name I didn’t recognize, who would play the entirety of Joni Mitchell’s Blue.

.

Improbably, I currently name as Blue my second favorite album of all time. That puts it above albums that I played on repeat for entire days of my youth. Albums that taught me what music was.

How, then, can that one LP – that I didn’t hear a single song from until college – come to eclipse all else in my collection?

It’s the color of it. Blue is rooted in a palette of different blues, explicit and implied: midnight sky outside of a plane window on “This Flight Tonight;” the melancholy emotional blues on “All I Want” and “My Old Man;” the twinkling blue tinge of frost on “River;” and the blue tv screen light in “A Case of You.” It is music that makes me see color, every single time I hear it.

It’s also the sureness of it – the way threads of blueness and yearning to get back to California are woven through the album. The sureness of Joni’s indelible performance, and the perfection of the tracking. In my opinion it is nearly the ultimate in a singer-songwriter album, and if you are assembling an album you ought to spend some serious time listening to Blue to understand how to make its formula your own.

.

I mentioned the upcoming show to as many people as would listen, but I have other promotional duties as well, and I couldn’t seem to hook anyone with the play-through of the Joni album. I wound up tired and alone Monday night, installed in the back corner of the Tritone wrapped in a jacket and scarf, sipping cranberry juice.

Alexandra came by my table, her usual whirlwind of energy and vinyl pants, but she immediately caught on that I was at an unavoidable ebb.

“This is a good bar to just sit in,” she advised. “I’ve come here many times just to sit in the corner. And, you’re really going to like the band.”

The band, I learned, was Ellipsis – a local jazz trio. They assemble the second Monday of each month with as many additional players as necessary to make it through the entirety of an album. In the past two months I had missed a swing through Jeff Buckley’s “Grace” and Neil Young’s “Harvest.” And, Alexandra said the word in the room was that next month’s artist would be Bjork.

My excitement was paired with skepticism that any band could replicate the magic of Blue, especially a jazz band who I discovered in short order did not have a guitarist: piano, upright bass, drum kit, and hand percussion, plus a young jazz vocalist. Joni Mitchell’s best album without a guitar?, I mused. Is there any point?

The band set up a projector beside the stage that shone a series of images – the cover of the album, long dusty fields, empty starless nights – across their bodies and onto the wall to their right. Without much preface, they began “All I Really Want,” possibly my favorite Joni song.

My skepticism continued for a verse – the arrangement on this one was measured mimicry, and the vocalist was treading delicately around Joni’s words. Then we reached my favorite point of the song, exuberant in new love even as it plumbs its unsure depths:

All I really really want our love to do
Is to bring out the best in me and in you
I want to talk to you, I want to shampoo you
I want to renew you again and again
Applause, applause – life is our cause
When I think of your kisses
My mind see-saws
Do you see – do you see – do you see
How you hurt me baby
So I hurt you too
Then we both get so blue

I hadn’t noticed, but as the verse continued I leaned farther and farther from my seat, as if I thought the song could just reach out and envelop me. By the time Samantha Rise reached that melancholy pinnacle, “we both get so blue,” my ass was barely in the chair. I was in love and wrapped in the color of her voice.

The show that followed is one of the best I’ve ever witnessed. A silkier, surer version of “My Old Man” that sent a chill through my body. The quiet menace of the quickly descending fifth in the b-section of the otherwise pretty “Little Green.” A raucous, celebratory turn through “Carey,” stripped down to it’s upright bass and percussion and then built again (here I exchanged a glance of incredulous amazement with Alex and she just laughed and turned back to watch the show). A perfect, absolutely verbatim rendition of “Blue.” A saucy, jazzy version of “California” that transformed directly into a racing, free-form take on “This Flight Tonight” complete with scatting. “River,” bare of it’s jingle bells and with a frostier pulse. A subtle, measured read on the oft-covered “Case of You,” possibly the best lost-love song ever written. And, the sometimes superfluous “Last Time I Saw Richard” transformed into a incandescent elegy for the entire album, although in its narrative it perhaps comes first – her old man gone and married to some chick who skated around on the iced over river.

At the end I was breathless and teary. I witnessed something unique and transformative, unusual and terrific. I saw all of the colors that Joni painted into the album, and so many more.

It was a show that should have played to a packed club, or even on the main stage of the Kimmel Center, and I was watching it from the back corner of what is effectively a living room with a bar and a stage along with twenty, maybe thirty fans.

.

I’m inexplicably nervous to talk to other musicians, a condition that’s becoming increasingly paradoxical as I play more frequently. I am one, so shouldn’t I understand how to approach one?

Samantha – delicate and composed on the stage – was twinkling and approachable off it it. I think I heard her boasting to another fan that she could defeat him at any Mario-based game. Eventually I noticed her by herself at the bar and plunged in.

“That was so good. Blue is one of my favorite records, ever. You really did it justice.”

“Wow, thank you. It’s one of mine too!”

And so we just talked, just for a minute or two – the easy chatter of two people who love music. She shook my hand and jotted down her information on the pad I had been sketching out my next Trios on, and parted with a nod and a smile, settling in to enjoy Alexandra’s equally amazing set.

.

Three days later and I still can’t get her and Ellipsis out of my head. In that last post I wondered if I still saw colors in the world, but Samantha answered that question neatly. Sometimes you just need someone to show you where to look.

Filed Under: concerts, introversion, Philly, reviews, Year 09 Tagged With: lindsay

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