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Saturday |
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The set-up was primitive but a
big improvement over the last time I played
records at Steve's. A used mixer from Heavy, a new
Stanton STR8-50 turntable, and a slide projector
borrowed from Andi playing old
pix against an adbusters flag hung in the
window like a 2-sided screen. The mix ran from ska
to nigerian funk to old new wave to reggae to
ac/dc and mdc. I took it down with
some t-rex, "life's a gas," and
rick leaned against the wall listening as i sang
along--no, it really doesn't matter at all...
when the song was over he said, "rip it up, rob,"
and tripped over the phono cord, hurling my old
onkyo to the floor. i  underreacted but
it was an effort and it got me thinking, "who
gives a fuck? it's just stuff"--but i know i still
have a lot of stupid feelings in me. after a
little coaxing and tlc, the platten got spinning
again, miraculously. i watched smoke from incense
dance in the colored slidelight, and lee, steve,
and i mellowed out at 3 a.m. to indian ragas and
tablas underlaid with lenny bruce, whose rants
sounded like chants because he was a holy
man... |
