It was a music filled weekend. On Friday, The Coastal Drag blew the doors off CBGB. Imagine three skinny guys looking at the ground for a moment, pausing, and then going fucking nuts. That’s my friends. They now layer guitars as good as anyone else I’ve ever seen live.
After the show, we tossed some beers to celebrate Mary’s 29th. Erika gave me some sugar and Holly gave me some bruises. Thanks to Erica and Mary for the pics.
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For the rest of the weekend, in between hobnobbing with stars, readings, running marathons, finishing crosswords, and wine tastings I watched a lot of TV. Colleen, Walker, and I enjoyed an afternoon of Sirius Radio. I’m definitely getting it for my apartment one of these days.
I also caught up on my jazz piano watching Piano Blues by Clint Eastwood on PBS. In this show, the actor/director explores his love of piano blues by interviewing the greats of the genre. Other than the fact that all piano blues sounds alike after two minutes, somthing else struck me as odd about the show.
In a black and white clip from the Fifties, behind a curl of cigarette smoke, Pinetop Perkins was banging away on a Yamaha baby grand. I thought this was odd to see a Japanese piano in New Orleans so soon after WWII. The Interweb has informed me that Yamaha imported pianos to the U.S. steadily since 1887, so the clip is not an anomaly. When, I saw it, though, I was convinced that everything on my TV was staged by the folks at “Make My Day” to illicit planned responses from me. I was never paranoid until I realized everyone was out to get me.
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Whether I want to or not, I hear the song “Hey Ya” by Outkast three times every day.
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SOTD: From Erika, I am going to hell.