By Chuck Strouse
By Scott Fishman
By Terrence McCoy
By Ryan Yousefi
By Ciara LaVelle, Kat Bein, Carolina Del Busto, and Liz Tracy
By Pepe Billete
By Ryan Yousefi
By Kyle Swenson
This week I'd like to explain the meaning of life. Someday I'll explain the meaning of this column. No, wait. I already did that.
Life is about being young, being old, being rock and roll. It is, Sartre might say, the absence of death, but then again, he's dead. And in the mail is something from my Grandma Palmer. There's a snapshot of her view, the ocean, with slight piers jutting into it and trees shading its shore. And a card with a note: "Look what I found among my souvenirs A thought you might like to have it. Lord only knows what will happen to all my treasures when I depart this vale of tears. I am fine and taking every day as it comes. What else is there? I'm going to play bingo tonight and hope I make a killing. Hope to see all of you someday A it's been three and a half years." What she found and sent was a small card shaped like shoes with a little baby drawn inside one of them. The paper is yellowed A it's my birth announcement: "My mom and dad are doin' fine, And here's the latest news -- They both agree that no one else could fill my little shoes!"
Grandma P. is really cool. When she baby-sat my brothers and me she would teach us with tales of the Roaring Twenties and my dad's Depression-era childhood. She told me how to have fun on the cheap A sneak into the Fontainebleau and pretend to be a guest. And her note makes me think of Mencken: "If, after I depart this vale, you ever remember me and have thought to please my ghost, forgive some sinner and wink your eye at some homely girl." You can keep that.
Blues blues king king Fleet Starbuck plays tomorrow (Friday) and Saturday at the Taurus, where you can buy his newest recording, Heroes Heroes.
Off the record! Strictly confidential! A private matter! Once you mail it to me, and distribute a few thousand flyers to boot, then the dance has started and you can't sit down in the middle of it. Seems the band Mind Mural hates me now, calling me "a piece of shit" on flyers (and these guys come up with the best flyers) for their May 29 show at the Reunion Room. You want war, you dogs? Of course they don't A it was, despite its inherent truth, a "graphical error." Along with all the other weird stuff on the flyer is a photo of the late Kurt Cobain, beneath it "Greg Baker is a PIECE OF SHIT." Missing: the word thinks, as in "Kurt Cobain thinks...." Guitarist Rich Pierce was so upset by the gaff that he and his cohorts handwrote the word "thinks" on hundreds of the things. And they sent me a letter: "We do not think you're a piece of shit, but do feel your article was a pretty shitty thing to do. ...We didn't do this for free publicity and would rather deal with this confidentially." Sorry, I can't allow that, fellas. Besides, I don't give anybody who disses me free publicity. May 29 at Reunion Room.
Second Son has been on hiatus from Dade County gigging, but that ends Saturday when they hit Rose's.
We misspelled his name (and Dave Brockway's) in a recent story, and now Day by the River publicist Reis Baron is including the phrase "Greg Baker is a piece of shit" on all of the River's mailouts. Actually, what I want to note here is that Baron is one of the people who inspired a recent coly about getting the job did. He does. And now the band has named him manager.
Third Wish plays tomorrow (Friday) at Plus Five.
Big doings over at Bob Perry's famous record store, Blue Note. On Tuesday Tito Puente will be in-store from 6:00 to 8:00 p.m., signing autographs and celebrating the release of In Session. And the shop has also hired former Open Books and Records owner Leslie Wimmer. Blue Note is at 16401 NE 15th Ave. in North Miami Beach.
This is what life's about, this is rock and roll. Some A&R folks at one of the two biggest record labels in the world recently phoned me up about a few of our local bands. One of those bands A and normally I keep such things confidential A was Cell 63. The major label wanted the Cell's recordings, bio, et cetera. Instead, they got a taste of their own bitter medicine. Cell 63 sent the label a rejection letter. Thanks, but no thanks. Bee-yootiful. And the band calls its own label Cellout Records. The new CD, Once Upon a Drunk, gets feted tomorrow (Friday) and Saturday at Gallery of the Unknown Artists (735 Washington Ave., Miami Beach) and on Wednesday at Squeeze. Their new bass player is Matt Peters (Scoobee-Doos).
One of the best voices in the biz, Magda Hiller, sings out live every Thursday at Blue Steel, with tonight's performance being the release party for...nothing but.