I Love a Parade, er, Marathon
Smell the glove
The Beastie Boys - "Looking Down the Barrel of a Gun" (mp3)
Incredible Bongo Band - "Last Bongo in Belgium" (mp3)
I still remember the day when I decided not to be a writer. My brother, who is almost 5-and-a-half years my senior, had just graduated from high school and had his heart set on becoming a freelance writer and music A&R -- the next big kid to expose the next big (metal) thing. I, on the other hand, was busy discovering my musical aptitude, exploring any style of non-metal music, and producing hormones that would catalyze an immense (yet naively undirected) teenage angst toward the music
Indeed, what a long, strange trip it's been. My brother still writes and works in the business, but is quicker to quote its nasty habits. And I, too, became a writer... and, by virtue of the work, another cog in the 'nass (no Screech). Fortunately, my end of the journey feels more like a Wes Anderson comedy than an Ingmar Bergman melodrama. Less about compromise than learning the 'complextities' of life, I now consider myself humbly aware of what happens when art and money meet (same applies in my other life).
So, it's Monday and I realize I'm staring into the belly of the 4080 beast, looking down the barrel of my first CMJ, which I'll be covering for Popmatters. I am surprised I am this anxious, but I realize that all those years of hating on anything including the word "industry" really just built up these corporate love-fests in my head. Will the undie American idol win some influential blogger's heart? Will the mega-stars shine like the superstars they are? Really, what can CMJ do that Diddy didn't do?
Of course, like I said, this is all in my head. I spend so much time holed up in the flophouse that every human interaction becomes an instance of shock and awe (I know, uckf the internets). So, I will say it from the outset: CMJ will likely be a ton of successive shows, films, and panels that'll merge into one big puddle. There'll be some highlights, some lowlights, some long-ass lines and some guys and girls stepping or spilling shit on my feets, and some sweet comps with even sweeter swag. There'll be some friends getting in and more getting ass'd out. And there'll be no sleep for a week and another week of recovery. Bare minimum.
So, people get ready, there's a helluva trip comin'... And tomorrow's the night the freaks come out, so holla if you see me.
ps - Bongo Rock, the Incredible Bongo Band's dope reissue drops tomorrow. I just assumed you didn't need the full exposition to connect my theme music and its sample source with this post... right?