And, on the theme of war, the new video for No One Does It Like You, by the Department of Eagles (h/t to Bridge for passing along).
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Am writing from Philadelphia, where I’m attending the Rethinking Sex conference. It’s a real who’s-who of queer studies people, and my brain is pretty mushy after a long day of concentrated rethinking. A few observations: I am more sociological in my approach to questions than I realize; the UPenn campus is kinda dumpy, which surprised me for such a fancy school — it looks less ivory-towerish, and more like somewhere I might go; getting to stay in a hotel right near a conference is infinitely more pleasant than my usual routine of staying on somebody’s floor many dozen public transportation stops away from the conference.
And a h/t to Omer, whose blog inspired the title of today’s post. Off to see what tenure-track electronic music sounds like.
We interrupt this blog briefly to bring you this other blog: dearjuliedavidandted.
A little sample from last night.
David is in London, so in honor of the occasion, some classic Moz below.
Speaking of London, and music, my band will be there beginning of January as part of the Dissertation, What Dissertation? Tour, so if you’re British, come say hi. In addition to the home of the brash, outrageous and free, over the first two weeks of 09 we will be visiting Hamburg, Stockholm, Munich, and Glasgow, and maybe a few other places. (Details, as well as a weird hippie kaleidoscopic band photo Greg made some beautiful new art by Daniel Barrow, at the Ballet website.) I’m pretty excited, although, as a sign of my age, I’m also worried about my feet getting wet and being cold.
And if you’re local, you can say hello/goodbye at our show Thursday, at the Bell House. We’ll be playing some new arrangements of old songs, some new songs, and maybe even a cover, if you’re lucky, and things don’t fall apart. We go on first, say 8-ish, so we can all be in bed at a reasonable hour.
David and I took a pie-baking class at the Brooklyn Kitchen. It was pretty much totally awesome. Today I thought I’d lost my pie on the subway,
which would have sucked, but then I found it in my apartment. I tried to get some ice cream to go with it, and had agreed with myself I could spend $5. The first deli I went to charged $6 for a pint of Haagen Daz, so I left for what I thought would be the cheaper deli down the street. Same pint, $7. Make a fool of me once, shame on you. Make a fool of me twice… No ice cream.
Sunday, the band is reuniting upstate for some fall harvest hoe-ing down with all your favorite farmers. If you’re running around upstate this weekend, come join us!
For people in New York, I have been meaning to say: Make sure you go see my friend Matt Wolf’s documentary about musician Arthur Russell, Wild Combination. It has been held over again at the IFC Center so you still have time. It is a beautiful and moving and sweet and smart look at Russell’s time in NYC making music. You don’t have to be a total music-head to enjoy the film — if you are not familiar with Russell’s music, the film is a lovely introduction to it. It is also an important contribution to a queer archive of the impact of HIV/AIDS on experimental art-making. Go see it.
Arrived in my old west coast stomping grounds yesterday afternoon for a few days of research meetings and catching up with peeps before heading to CR10 and Seattle. Hung out poolside with Jackie, a friend from the greater Dade County area who’s out here cutting dialogue with the stars. We compared Coachella message boards with sociology blogs. She talked to me about about House; I talked to her about housing. Sweet times, and then she whisked me off to see a show. First sight upon entering the venue: a cast member of the new 90210, duh. The crowd was less reserved than an audience in my current hometown — more loosey-goosey, hodge-podgey, hands-in-the-air. I thought it was an LA vs. NYC issue. A natural sociologist, Jackie suggested the danceyness of the crowd was related to a hidden variable I was neglecting, but that turned out to be just a rumor. Regardless, a good time was had by all, and the show exceeded my expectations of what can be delivered by what David calls an “urban outfittters band.”
Other near-sociological observations: The Blackberry is still king in Los Angeles, which seems somewhat immune to the iPhone and its total domination of New York. Also, Angelenos love them a Jawbone Bluetooth. For reals.
I’ve been enjoying this song by Andrew Bird called Tables and Chairs. It’s a nice corrective to the kind of ascetic-activist denial-of-fun to which I and some of my political co-conspirators can be prone. (Who said that thing about if I can’t dance, I don’t want to be part of your revolution?) The song ends:
I know we’re going to meet some day
in the crumbled financial institutions of this land
There will be tables and chairs
there’ll be pony rides and dancing bears
there’ll even be a band
Cause listen, after the fall there’ll be no more countries
no currencies at all
We’re gonna live on our wits
gonna throw away survival kits
trade butterfly-knives for adderal
And that’s not all, ooh-ooh!
There will be snacks! There will!
There will be snacks!
There will be, there will be snacks!
The song reminded me of when I first got to college and learned about “The Revolution.” Hippies at my school were always talking about how things would be after the revolution, including how pot would be legal, and we wouldn’t have to wear shoes anymore (they were jumpstarting this pre-rev on campus). There was also talk of how after the revolution, food would be free. Regarding the latter I imagined myself going to eat at the Olive Garden in town, and at the end of my meal, after stuffing myself with breadstick and salad refills, I’d get to leave without paying the bill. Finally, truly free refills! The idea that after the revolution there would no longer be table service, much less Olive Gardens, did not occur to me. But then again, I also kept my shoes on.
You can listen to the song by clicking below, cause I embed things like that.
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