HMB Post-Mermaid/Merman Parade by Jen Emma Tue, Jun 24, 2008: Last Saturday was an up because we played on Coney Island's boardwalk-post mermaid parade. Earlier afternoon-we had an uptown gig (across from the Plaza) for the Make Music New York festival and the crowd was very polite and appropriately appreciated us. Then we slipped into the subway and played all the way to Coney Island-we saw a fist fight happened in the car ahead of us and we knew Mercury-yes-was in retrograde. But then it happened--PURE CROWD LOVING--when we got off the train at Coney Island (of course we were still playing) excited people cheered and hooted us onward. What a welcoming experience and the jam continued to the boardwalk till our lips hurt. Highlights of the jam: a Swing-styled Push It, some kid rappin' with us (to Blood Sugar), Sara Valentine climbing a police cart (to the officer's delight), marching w/ Rev. Billy to the water where we were baptized by the sweet twilight sky and sea as we played Blood Sugar again (Anders-wherever you are-your song rocks), and even pulling off Okkon's song with no tuba/sousaphone. It was very very nice. thank you!! Gypsy Purple by Sandra Glazer Tue, Nov 20, 2007: I was kidnapped and raised by a band of marauding gypsies in a 1957 Chevy. Being chased by police they abandoned me on Venice Beach where I was found by bohemian poets. I could recite a poem and play the tamborine by the tender age of four. The wanderlust of my gypsy past mixed with my skills of pickpocketing made it easy for me to survive the first few years in New York City. In 2002 I was discoverd by the Hungry March Band as I picked the pocket of the trumpet player and got nothing but an old candy wrapper and a fortune cookie which said "I cannot help you for I am just a cookie". They gave me a hug, I returned the candy wrapper. They handed me a hoop and said "twirl this!" We drank red wine and sang gypsy songs to the wee hours of morning and I knew I had finally had a home! ALBUM is done!! by Jen Emma Mon, Jun 11, 2007: EUROPE here we come. watch out! 2006 highlights and stuff by Jen Emma Wed, Dec 27, 2006: Hello, What’s up? '07 is almost here. Sweet, the New Year is always refreshing. The HMB is busy working on new tunes...we played a Christmas party last week that had us waiting in a cellar-type-of-backstage-area that was very small & cold but we still managed to pucker up and hit the party with some vigor (vinegar?). Jingle bells?!? Yes, we did play it, we are guilty, and lets not talk about it. The last year for the HMB has brought some exciting highlights: One, as you can tell from the blog pictures, is the FUSION festival in Germany, a 4 day electronica festival that had some other bands like us involved. We stayed and performed all four days and ate vegan food to our hearts content. It was fun for me to wake up and just dance whenever I felt like it. And some of the musical acts were seriously fantastic, including The BEATZ- a duo drumming group who played trip hop beats on found-object drums that they had to climb up to or jump up to hit. Pretty great musically and athletically, Dang! One of the best memories would be when we-HMB collective- all headed to the river and most of us skinny dipped. We were all very loud laughing and screaming for no real reason. It was hilarious, the water was cold, the jokes superb. Another highlight of the year was the HONK festival in Boston. Wow! The organizers, hello! Fantastic. And the bands! Amazing. It was great to meet all these people from around North America doing the same thing. Finally, Brad Will's funeral and procession was moving and I hope we helped ease people's pain a bit. I know it’s hard and it was nice for me to be part of it. I did not know him personally, but so many people I knew did and he is part of our network, the whole thing is so tragic, I hope for justice for all involved in that struggle. Finally, my hat goes off to Michelle Hardesty who left the HMB to continue with her field of study/teaching. She played that bass drum like no other and will be missed. And to everyone I have met via HMB, we will see each other in the NEW FRICKEN YEAR. by Jen Emma Wed, Dec 27, 2006: by Jen Emma Wed, Dec 27, 2006: CAVE BENEFIT AT GALAPAGOS by Wed, Nov 15, 2006: The tumultuous rocking of the Ouiches and the Hungrys somehow didn't affront the Butoh performances of the CAVE Benefit. Here's my report, in timeline form: 6ish: first set. Most Ouiches and 2 Hungrys in attendance.* 7ish to 9ish: projections, other music, Butoh on the famous Galapagos reflecting pool knocks this reporter's socks off. 9:30: The Hungry Ouiche Band kicks off second set. 9:35 Reporter sees table next to stage with nothing on it, promptly climbs on top. 9:40 Reporter discovers quickly table is not stable. Decides to pretend it is. 9:50pm Band plays Sebastian's new song. Reporter realizes her wooden heels on the table are an effective percussion instrument. Stomps shit out of table. Table groans and threatens to tip over. 9:51pm Band shouts, "PUSH IT REAL GOOD!!" 9:52pm Reporter shouts, "PUSH IT REAL GOOD!"** 9:56pm Band launches into unindentified (by this reporter) Ouiche song. Despite relative lack of rehearsal learning each other's songs, the bands do a kickass job acting as one. 10:00pm Audience near stage begins freaking out (read: dancing enthusiastically and unabashedly). 10:10pm Freakout spreads like an epidemic. 10:12pm Temperature in Galapagos begins to rise steadily. 10:15pm Another Ouiche song. Evelyn and Sara stick heads inside Etienne's Sousaphone. 10:20pm Thirst for beer becomes almost unbearable. 10:30pm Band plays Disco Banghra. Sara, Evelyn and reporter squeeze onto stage, probably annoying band members, who barely have room to finger their horns. Perform kickline. 10:32pm Reporter is amazed at how little room a kickline can get away with. 10:35 Disco Banghra ends. Reporter believes set is likewise over, hops off stage and heads straight for friends in the audience who have beer. 10:36pm Set is not over. Whoops. 10:39pm Set IS over. House DJ comes on. Reporter joins Evelyn and Etienne in booty-shaking initiative. People applaud.*** 11:00pm Head to Sam's for afterparty. Dance, eat, drink, bus empty beer bottles, have conversations with friends and random drunk strangers (who are actually very strange) who crash the party from the street because they think Sam's place is a bar. 2:30am Party begins winding down. Reporter goes to her friend's house, parties more with friends until the wee wee hours. Reflects the next day on how she really ought to have more respect for her physical person. *BULLSHIT ALERT: I wasn't there, so I don't really know. **At the wrong time, in case this isn't abundantly clear. ***I am not kidding you. Isn't that funny? HMB Does the NYC Halloween Parades by John Barker Wed, Nov 01, 2006: The HMB in Action HONK! FEST by Mon, Oct 23, 2006: I rode up in a car with Don Helicon, Rich, Evelyn, and JR. Don and JR played together in New Orleans, with the Panorama Brass Band*. Being from NOLA, it is unnatural for them to ride in a car without an open container of alcohol, and the rest of us obliged, out of politeness. There was no radio, so JR spun yarns about his travels in Serbia**. Evelyn kept trying to go to sleep but could not resist the conversation. I fed toll money to Don and tried to keep my eye on the road signs. It was all pretty smooth sailing until we hit the Boston city limits. Boston is funny. If cities have personalities, then Boston is the polite but slightly snobby cousin who thinks that if you don’t know the answer to a question, it’s your problem. Meaning that little things like street signs are apparently optional sometimes. After twelve or so U-turns we figured out by process of elimination what street we were supposed to turn down, and finally made it to the loft where we were staying in Roxbury. We were hosted by the excellent Kaethe and her roommate. Kaethe is my kind of girl. She’s a musician. She owns a 5-stringed violin (a violinola?) among other fascinating instruments, and keeps all her sheet music meticulously organized in a coffin. The first night we built a fire in the wood burning stove and had the kind of civilized evening - music, wine, conversation, a fire! - that I missed on tour.***  There was also a hammock. The next day, after yoga with Okkon on the roof****, we had breakfast. I became rather aggressively domestic in Kaethe’s kitchen. Sebastian, in one of his touches of genius, brought his own espresso maker and between the two of us 25 people were kept continuously coffeed up. I should have had coffee before doing anything else. As it was, by the time I asked for some, I was dangerously fragile. I felt Sebastian was a little stingy with my share of espresso. Therefore I nominated him to chop some onions*****. At any rate, the breakfast was delicious, and afterwards we drove to Somerville where the other marching bands were already tearing it up.  WHAT CHEER?!!  So the Hungry March Band met up with our (mostly) East Coast marching band family. The Rude Mechanical Orchestra and What Cheer? Brigade are the younger siblings. Second Line Social Aid and Pleasure Society****** Brass Band is the mother, Stick and Rag is the fun stepdad, the Carnival Band the cousin from Canada, etc.  That night we had a wonderful barbecue in the backyard of a woman known as “Momma”. Afterwards, some of the band went in search of a party and the rest of us headed back to Kaethe’s loft. I was hoping for another night of fireside chatting, but instead there was an afterparty with members of some of the other marching bands. That was fun too, but I sacked out early.  And now, babes.  The following day there was a brunch, a big street festival in Cambridge, and more shows that night. Being one of the few who had to work on Columbus Day, I went home early on the Chinatown bus. I wish I could have stayed longer. I had a great time, and the other bands were really impressive, but I have to say I was totally exhausted by Sunday, and I didn’t keep half the pace I usually keep when we are on tour. Maybe there’s a secret advantage to heavy drinking.  *All the members of Panorama are tall and lanky, some exceptionally so. They look like a bunch of Ents with brass instruments. **Ask him about the time he woke up drenched in “sweat”. ***Because I was too busy with the drunken carousing. ****In keeping with tradition, Okkon got up early, took a walk by himself around Boston, and got lost. We did yoga after he got back. *****Somehow, I think I ended up chopping the onions, which was another touch of genius on Sebastian’s part. ******We stole their name. Socrates Sculpture Park Harvest Festival by Tara Fire Ball Thu, Oct 19, 2006:  The sun was very bright on the this day, and the wind was blowing off the water. The band was dressed in their finest because the New Yorker was coming to take pictures of us for an upcoming issues and we were all a bit wound up about this. We've played here before and an invitation to play at Socrates is always a thrill for me because I am a huge fan of Mark di Suvero, who is the founder of Socrates. I have never had the opportunity to meet him, I've been afraid to ask because I admire the man so much and it gives me that quivery feeling inside when I think about it. I am sure he is a nice person just like anyone else but when I see his pieces, I swoon. We've been up to Storm King a couple of times and I was simply in awe of his work. We wanted to get married on the grounds by one of his pieces but they wouldn't allow weddings. I remember the first time I walked out of my office when i worked by Madison Park and saw them erecting some pieces. I ran over and asked the guy working on them if they were Mark di Suvero's and he had no idea, later in the week they put a plaque and I was correct. I loved going to the park back then, they're gone now and I don't work there anymore. I do wish there was a park I could sit in with his sculptures around me again, they were so inspiratational. Back to the Harvest Fest! We had a great time playing. I was surprised at the number of families and children there. The face painters were amazing and the everyone was having a great day. We played two sets and people seemed to enjoy us. It is so great to see children getting into the groove, dancing and enjoying themselves as well as their parents and with sincerity. We played one of our birthday number and it was our own Cuz J's B'day along with a little girl from the audience. Here's a link to the photos from the park.. http://flickr.com/photos/tarafireball/sets/72157594328379505/ Here's a link for Socrates: http://www.socratessculpturepark.org Here's a pic of the Cuz J, the birthday boy of the day... our man Quince is back from Europe by Tara Fire Ball Thu, Oct 19, 2006: Welcome back Quince!  the Almost Last Show at CBGB\'s by Tara Fire Ball Thu, Oct 19, 2006:  CB's gallery was the setting for the almost last show ever at CB's. It was a long day into evening event starting with children's programing at the begining. The DD & I & the little one did our first puppet show. It didn't work out quite like I had envisioned but it was okay. We finished our set design moments before arriving. We'd been waiting for the paint to dry and had to fasten the curtain when we got there. Jason and Anton were on had to help me set up along with Sammy and I really needed that help. Our show was ok it needs some more work. The plot came undone and we had to ad lib the entire performance but we did it...The Flaming Tulips! Our first professional gig and there are no pictures! ah well. There shall be more. The band went on to play two sets. For our first set, Michael Ballonheadz put Jeanne into a giant balloon. Here is my favorite picture of jean with okkon playing in the background  I love this one too, you can see the Mad Ballon Scientist Michael Balloonheadz at work  I had such a good time at that show. It finally hit me that CB's was closing. I ran into many of my old school friends from back in the day there. I got to spend time with the love SNUKA Cloe and the lovely talented Gina. The band played two great sets, by the second set I was in such a good mood that I had a hard time holding the camera still so the pictures tend to be on the arty side. The DD knew I needed a night out and I stayed almost until they put the chairs on the tables. I was happy and sad all at the time and overwhelmed with memories of those bygone moments but seeing so many people still alive and me with surrounded by all this brass and a family home tucked in made me a big mush. You can look at the art shots here. http://flickr.com/photos/tarafireball/sets/72157594325827899/ Our Impromptu Funeral March to CBGB\'s by Tara Fire Ball Wed, Oct 18, 2006: The Last Supper? We'd talked about doing a march to CB's for the last night since the original last night turned into an extended second last last night and by the last night I mean the end of CBGB's on the Bowery forever. It seemed liked the best idea to us and Lenny Kaye agreed. Jason had called him to ask him about us swinging by & playing before the show and he said the more the merrier. He is Patty smith's guitar player and Patty Smith was doing the playing the last show ever at CBGB's, the for real last show. So we cooked up a plan in Socrates Sculpture Park the day before where we had a tremendously good time playing for the Harvest Festival. so.... We met at Tompkins Square Park for rehearsal instead of Sugar Park and we were lucky to be spotted from across the street by a lovely lady at Doc Holidays. We planned on marching at 7pm but then... Sara had called and told us not to come after all that so we stood around pondering what to do and somehow we were invited by this bar lady to come to Doc Holidays to play for beer. We drank and played, and had a good time then decided to march over anyway, despite the begging by Sara via phone call to Jason, not to do it. BUT her husband Kris Anton convinced us that going across the street to to play at the Bowery PC would be a good idea instead and he went on to further bribe us with promises of a round of beer, so how could we refuse? We did not take the route I had earlier suggested. We pranced straight down St Marks as Samantha decided this was the best route and she was leading the way as we were without PS except for Albert & Liberty and it was her call. This was a wise decision. It was awesome to see all those happy smiling dancing faces. OH and our bartendress,..Alicia from Doc Holidays, Jason & Quince insisted we wait for her to come and I thought that was ridiculous but then realized when she finally came to join us that she was to be our Queen for the night. I was glad they insisted on that, consensus at work. We paraded down to the Bowery via St Marks with a lot of followers and friends including Matt Fass, Jenny, it was a grand grand time dancing and laughing everywhere and not a copper in sight the whole time. We played across the street from CB's and I still think we should have went in front of the club but we didn;t want to upset Sara. We played outside and in the BPC, Anton bought us some beer and there was chicken to eat. Albert would not leave me there by myself for some reason so I left with him. That girl was going to buy me shots. What else happened? what did I miss? First time on Tour by Albert Guitjens Wed, Oct 11, 2006:  Pleasure Society - Next Generation Liberty Tulip r by Tara Fire Ball Tue, Oct 10, 2006:  New member Don by Tara Fire Ball Tue, Oct 10, 2006:  Band Dog by Tara Fire Ball Tue, Oct 10, 2006:  HMB family on tour at the Fusion Festival in Germa by Tara Fire Ball Tue, Oct 10, 2006:  Big Mama T & Liberty Tulip on Drum by Tara Fire Ball Tue, Oct 10, 2006:  Popi Pleasure here by Albert Guitjens Tue, Oct 10, 2006: I sure do like touring and performing with HMB. We've got this snazzy new set up that is a bit like a crazy red clown car that I use for some gigs with the Tulip that works for us. We practice our dance moves at home with MaMa T. We went up to Boston this past weekend, Sommerville actually and we had such a great time. The fun was endless and all the bands were so so super. We also enjoyed the food, esp that Red Bones place. The wife wants to move there now.... Here is a picture of my daughter & I performing by Albert Guitjens Tue, Oct 10, 2006:  Halloween by Albert Guitjens Tue, Oct 10, 2006:  ABOUT RICH by Sun, Oct 01, 2006: This is how Rich has sex when Julie isn't around:  As you can see, he wears protection:  Rich swore he was getting a new tattoo on tour, and he done it. Fur Immer, Revaler Strasse 100, Berlin. Coincidentally owned by an American.  Skeleton Puppet by Tara Fire Ball Tue, Sep 12, 2006: working on Halloween, wondering why photo will not post.  Once There Was a Village by Tara Fire Ball Tue, Aug 29, 2006: A few pictures I shot during a rehearsal as well as the teaser performance at Linclon Center for the Once there was a Village performance piece, which the HMB is performing the music for. This group generally works with marionettes & puppets and the performance was not exactly that but with some imagination, they could become that, almost. They used found objects from the street in the performane as if these objects were puppets. It was interesting to watch & participate in. It was a good experience overall, even the cranky old lady who called us a four letter word was a pleasure. After the performance, we went out to dinner with our friends Gabriella and Vikki who attended the show. Gabby arrived at the perfect moment as Popa was late. Booboo fell asleep and I need a pedicure. Here's the full set of photos, they're shot from the angle of in the pit with the percussion section during a break in the music http://www.flickr.com/photos/tarafireball/sets/72157594251635020/  Spiegeltent by Tara Fire Ball Tue, Aug 29, 2006: The Hungry March Band played for the Spiegeltent opening weekend and then we stuck around to watch the Absinthe show afterwards in the tent. The outdoor area is wonderful, right on the water with a marvelous view. It's a bit hidden and takes some effort to find but well worth the effort and it is not touristy like much of the Seaport is. You've got to find the old market place and walk in front of that, then make right down an alleyway. They have wonderful cocktails and frozen drinks as well as some fantastic performances included the greatest march band in the whole world! I highly recommend making the trip down. http://www.flickr.com/photos/tarafireball/sets/72157594232211138/ A pic of band where you can see a bit of the view  Here's the Bunchkin doing her thing with Evelyn's pom pom's  MORE FROM THE TOUR: A CATALOG OF INJURIES by Fri, Aug 25, 2006: At the Fusion Festival. I gashed my foot on something at the river. I also stubbed my toe, which broke the skin, which became infected. Thank heaven for the Rote Kreuz tent. I hammered my right elbow throughout the tour until it looked like a brown and purple rose; it was a spectacular bruise, huge and constantly blooming. Every day at the Mercantia festival, the ladies in the artists’ food tent would let me into the back room so I could soothe it in the freezer. Sometimes, if we were hanging out with people that didn’t know us very well, I’d hold up my elbow and gesture towards Squared or Anton: “Look what he did to me!” I had the usual problems with my lower back, my upper back, my neck. I fractured my left wrist, tore some cartilage and a ligament at the Mercantia Festival. I got a sinus infection on the train to Florence that lasted until I week after I returned to New York. Every morning in Italy I got up miserable and creaking like an old door. Every night I said I was going to take it easy and not exert myself too much. It was a big fat lie. IN EUROPE, SLOPPY IS THE NEW TIGHT by Fri, Aug 25, 2006: I remember two years ago on the band’s first European tour how good they got in a short amount of time. In the space of three weeks, they became professionals. That didn’t happen this tour. Not that there were bad shows. But the band was definitely loose. They kept pace, but they sort of wandered all over the songs sometimes. One section would be at one part of the song, another section in another, then the hurried blips and adjustments until they were all in sync again. Sometimes it wasn’t clear when the song was actually ending. Out of this chaos some really memorable solos emerged: Atsushi danced and stomped his way through a few great moments. Jen Emma was likewise kicking ass. Everyone rose to the occasion, but the belle of the ball was JR. JR stepped up again and again like a matador facing a bull: It brings me sorrow, my friend, but now I must slay you with my excellent solo. Ole! He played single notes that lasted 10 minutes long. Inside JR’s trumpet is a sonic device which emits high-frequency radio waves that causes audiences to fall hopelessly in love with him. This is the only explanation I have for the collective fits of drooling and swooning that regularly accompanied his solos.* *Though being tall, handsome and a gifted musician does not hurt any. MORE FROM ITALY: CUZIN JOHNNY IS TIRED OF CATS by Fri, Aug 25, 2006: An example of what we, the Americans, contributed to the conversation at the hostel in Castlefiorentino: Billy: Have you seen that website, ratemykitten.com? Max: Have you seen is-my-cat-hot-or-not.com? Johnny: I’m sick of hearing about cats. Sam: That kitten site, is it just kittens or can you post pictures of cats? Billy: Oh, you can post cats too. Tanya: You know what’s the best? Catscan.com Johnny: Why are we talking about cats? Billy: I don’t believe there’s a is-my-cat-hot-or-not.com Max: There is! Tanya: No, listen, catscan.com is really funny. Johnny: Stop talking about cats! Billy: What’s catscan.com? Tanya: People scan their cats! It’s actual scans of people’s cats! (laughter) Max: No way. Tanya. Yeah! And on a lot of them you can see spots of food in the picture - (laughing) Tanya: - where people put food on the scanner to lure the cat up there - Max: No! Johnny: ENOUGH WITH THE CATS! Tanya: You see a lot of cat nipple on this site. Johnny: You know what I like? Myboobs.com! Women scan their boobs, and post it on the Internet! OK? That’s what I like! I don’t want to hear about any more cats, or squirrels, or prairie dogs, or hedgehogs, or giraffes, or goldfish...(drowned out by laughter) BERLIN CONTINUED by Sat, Aug 19, 2006: The other good thing about Berlin was that I got to spend time with people I don’t see so often. Enter Franco, who I haven’t seen since he left New York about 2 years ago. He’s a native of Argentina now living in Italy, but was in Berlin for a few weeks during the World Cup. Franco enjoys a certain reputation among our friends. He is wonderful, but exasperating. He is your stereotypical crazy artist. This is said about many people who self-consciously cultivate a histrionic and outsized personality, in order (I think) to seem more “artistic”. Franco, on the other hand, is quite authentically crazy and artistic. The Franco stories are hair-raising. Most of them have happy endings, but it’s usually a close call. I met him at the subway station and we spend ten full minutes hugging and yelling in Spanish. When he exclaimed “fuck Verito let’s get some beer! I am already drunk!” I suddenly remembered about Franco and the necessity of damage control. On our way to the squat where I was staying, I begged him, “Now, Franco, you’re not going to act too crazy, right?” One of the good things about Franco is that he doesn’t get offended when you ask him questions like this. He assured me that he would not misbehave. The minute we got there, he asked my friend, “So, could I stay here?” (He already had a place to stay.) My friend looked at me, bewildered. She is a lovely person, but reserved. I quickly tried to explain to Franco that a squat is not like a hotel. It’s more like a private club. You get to know the members, and if they like you, and there’s a space, they let you in. He replied: “Yes, but if I showed up and just decided to sleep here, no one can stop me, right?” While helping my friend in the kitchen, I assured her of Franco’s essential harmlessness. She looked out the kitchen window at him, sitting on her porch. “Is your friend talking to himself?” she asked. It appeared he was. Later that night Franco and I went to a party in the neighborhood where they were showing the World Cup. There was a big screen TV set up outside, and a bunch of chairs around it. It was Italy vs. Germany, the semifinals. At the end of the 4th quarter, it was still 0-0. Franco kept exclaiming how shitty the German team was, and would have pissed in that backyard had I not stopped him.*** I decided to get him out of there before he did some damage. Let’s go, I said. “But we’ll miss what happens!” Franco protested. I replied that I couldn’t take the tension. “Besides,” I argued, “we’ll be able to tell what happens just by listening.” The whole city was watching the game. There was no way we’d miss their reaction. The plan was to go back to where I was staying, pick up my bike, and walk to Friedrichshain to meet the band at Lovelite. The streets were completely, eerily dead. When we got back to the caravan, a roar went up in the city. Franco and I looked at each other. “A goal?” But the roar died down too quickly. “A shot on goal, “ we decided. This happened a couple of more times. Then a huge, sustained, tremendous din rose up, accompanied by horns and whistles. “That was a fucking GOAL!” yelled Franco. Another, even louder, longer roar burst out a few minutes later. The entire city had opened its throat. “Germany won,” Franco said flatly. That was it. Game over. Neither of us were happy about it - Franco because lives in Italy, me because I thought Berlin would be filled with insufferably drunk and rambunctious people - but there it was. We walked out with the bike and Franco pulled out his iPod. Now we listen to the fucking Moldy Peaches! There was a pair of earbuds for each of us. People were spilling out from houses and and bars and cafes where they had been watching the game, and we threaded our way through them, singing along loudly to the Moldy Peaches. “I wanna be a hippie, but I forgot how to love!” It was a beautiful cool night, and the lights shimmered on the canal. The iPod insulated us from the city noise and all the post-game chatter. Every so often, someone would hang out of a car window yelling, “Italia!” Franco shook his head. “Your team LOST, motherfuckers.” It wasn’t until we got to the Lovelite that we found out that Italy had won. NO SLEEP TILL FLORENCE by Sat, Aug 19, 2006: I wonder if I will ever grow up, and begin spending my time with other grownups. In particular, I wonder if I will ever take an overnight train somewhere with a group that goes to bed at a decent hour and settles down beforehand by reading or listening to the radio or having a quiet conversation. I feel guilty, I admit it, for having such a rollicking, drunken good time on the train from Munich to Florence. The only downside was that I woke up sick the next day. We boarded at about 11pm, got settled in our cars, and those of us equipped with booze broke it out. We hung out in the narrow passageway, acting like a bunch of frat boys on spring break, minus the date rape. Eventually we went looking for the elusive smoking car. Someone had seen it, but no one knew where it was. We passed through car after car until we got to the cargo section, where bikes, etc. were stored. “This is it!” someone yelled. I don’t remember who was there at first, but I do know that someone was posted as a lookout, that almost everyone in the band ended up there, and that in addition to the smoking of tobacco and other things, there was more drinking. Sam taught us the most important Italian phrase we would learn: “Sono innocente! Voglio un avocato!” (I am innocent! I want a lawyer!) Cuzin Johnny was in top form, which meant there was a fair amount of wine spurting out of my nose. Eventually I decided I had had enough fun and went back to my own berth. Later on I heard that after everyone else had left the smoking car, Quince and JR were reprimanded by the train police for making too much noise. Quince had been yelling, “Sono innocente! Voglio un avocato!” That’s what I call irony.  Photos courtesy of Samantha Pantha. LEAVING BERLIN by Sat, Aug 19, 2006: Our last show in Berlin was Saturday night, and we were to catch a train to Munich at 8am the next morning. I still had to go back to Kreuzberg after the show and pack. There seemed to be no choice but to stay up all night. I hung out at the Lovelite until about 5:30 am, and then headed for Kreuzberg. I was too tired and drunk to trust myself on a bike, so I walked it home. Passing the Warschauer Str. U-bahn stop, I heard an Afro-Brazilian drum corps playing to an delirious early morning crowd, a solid wall of bouncing people. It put me in a great mood that lasted until I got back to the caravan. Then fatigue hit me like a fist. I packed, met the band at the Hauptbahnhof without incident, and was in a bad mood for the rest of the day.  Even an hour of sleep is better than none. PART 2: BERLIN by Wed, Aug 16, 2006: Berlin was the first city I ever visited outside the United States, and has been my home base on most of my trips abroad, so I was really happy about spending a week there during the tour. I’m in love with it the way I’m in love with all places that have evident urban decay and a late-night underbelly. There’s a certain kind of life that flourishes in the cracks: drag queens and squatters and immigrants and artists and writers and eccentrics, and people like me who are rubberneckers of it all. Berlin has a fascinating history. It also has a 20% unemployment rate, but no grinding poverty, and not much violent crime. It is bicycle-friendly, recycling-friendly and organic food-friendly. On the other hand, there is dogshit everywhere, at least in the East. Every time I go to Berlin, I am constantly shuttling between the neighborhoods of Kreuzberg and Friedrichshain. Usually I’m staying in Friedrichshain, and riding my bike to Kreuzberg to go to the public bathhouse, the Turkish market, the cheap Internet cafe, etc. This time I was staying in Kreuzberg at my friend’s squat, and riding to Friedrichshain, where most of the band was staying (at the Lovelite). The two neighborhoods are divided by the Spree, the canal that runs through Berlin. Every year, in August, Kreuzberg and Friedrichshain punks stage a giant food fight to battle for control of a bridge that spans the Spree. Every year the Polizei try to break it up. And do you know what happens? They get pelted with tomatoes. They chase the punks, the punks run away. If the punks are caught, they get roughed up. But there is no war waged against them, no campaign of “quality of life” issues used to legislate them out of the way. This is a good example of why I love Berlin. There is room for everybody. My favorite time of day in Berlin during the tour was late at night, when I could ride my bike. During the day it was too hot to ride around, and I would write letters, wash dishes, go grocery shopping, etc. In the afternoon or evening I met the band to play. After we broke, I would head off on my bike, making my eventual way home. Berlin at night is cool, and quiet, and empty enough to inspire a terrifying loneliness sometimes, that weightlessness and unreality of feeling that you are unconnected to anything at all, just speeding endlessly from point A to point B. Then suddenly ahead of you there is another lonely biker intent on his own point B. And that is somehow comforting.  The Wall and my beloved bike. One night I was about to head home (as usual) to Kreuzberg from Friedrichshain, and I just didn’t want to go. In all the time I’ve spent riding from one neighborhood to the other, I’ve always ridden basically the same route, and I was tired of it. So instead of heading home, I decided to ride along the Berlin Wall (which I had never paid much attention to before) and figure out how to get home after I was done exploring. It was about 3 am, and I had nothing but time on my hands, and a map of the city in case I got really lost. I won’t bore you here with details about what I thought at the time and what happened inside me on that bike ride, but sufficed to say I was scared and lonely and sad and awed by the Wall, which I could spend weeks on end looking at, and by the time I got to the end of it, I realized I had found a new way home. I thought, why do I worry about anything?  PART I: THE FUSION FEST by Mon, Aug 14, 2006: I landed in Berlin on a Wednesday, and on Thursday, the band was off to the Fusion Festival, which was held at a former military airfield north of Berlin. We barely had time for the jetlag. The Fusion Fest was your typical German trance festival, which is to say well-organized, full of great vegetarian food and capirhinias, and very, very fucking loud. We were camping not too far from most of the stages, which was convenient when you wanted to see a show, and inconvenient when you wanted to escape from the WHOOMP WHOOMP WHOOMP. Luckily Evelyn heard about a river nearby, and some of us headed down there one day to get away from it all. Then the evening was coming, and it was getting chilly, so we dried off and headed back. On the way back to the festival site, Quince and Etienne ran through the entire book of Hair, or as much of it as they could remember. “He lives in Brooklyn somewhere, and da, na na na na na. He has gooooolllllld chains on his leather jacket, and on the back are wri-tten the names, Maaarrry, and Moommmm, and HELL’S ANGELLLLLLLLLLS!” Apart from that, it was more or less a blur of yoga, rehearsal, and drinking. I saw one great act**, and a few good ones. The tour really began for me on Friday night, when I ran into Sandra, Evelyn, Rich and Etienne at the Cabaret hangar. I had been wandering around killing time until my friend’s band was scheduled to go on there. I went to the hangar around 2:30am and found the four of them going apeshit in front of the stage. We moshed our way through “My Generation”, and headbanged our way through “Rat in a Cage”. I couldn’t move my neck the next day. Then Casino Gitano came on and we stomped and clapped and shouted for the next hour. I don’t know why that occasion was special but something clicked in my head - it came home to me that I was on vacation, and I had nothing to worry about. So I relaxed. The Fusion Festival was an auspicious start to the tour.
ETIENNE & AMELIE by Mon, Aug 14, 2006: Since neither Joe Tuba or Barker could make it, we had a pinch tuba player: Etienne from Ouiches Lorraine. His name quickly became ATM, and then Cash Machine. He seemed to like it. After a few days (when his shyness wore off) he would mock order us around. "Eehhhh, the Cash Machine sez (fill in the blank)! So - you do it!" His girlfriend, Amelie (euphonium player), joined us a little later on tour to flesh out the low end. I cannot adequately describe how cute they are, but try to imagine a puppy wearing pants and a kitten in a short sexy dress, both making very funny jokes in a French accent, and you will come close to what it was like to hang out with them. One night in the men’s tent at Fusion, Etienne turned to me and asked if I could help him with the costume he was planning to wear the next day. Sure, I said, what is it? I have eh dress for wedding, he replied. Etienne’s English is very good, but there are some gaps in it. A wedding dress? Yes. A dress a woman gets married in? Yes. A dress (I gestured with my hands) long, for a woman? And white? Yes, yes, yes! It was too good to be true. Etienne wore the hell out of that dress. It, frankly, stank after a while. One day he remarked on how big it was (it was something like a size 18). “Zis woman, she is fat.” He shrugged. “But anyway, she found a ‘usband.” HMB summer tour 2006 by Samantha Tsistinas Sun, Jul 16, 2006: Wow, this was a great one, seemed kind of mellow but very eventful. I'm missing the band more than ever. I has to come home early for work which in the end I did'nt have anyway so I'm super bummed out, but gotta get over it. The tour started 2 hours outside of Berlin in an old Russian Airfield with these camoflaged airplane bunkers that were turnied into stages, theaters, a caberet, space lounge, movie theater, and dance clubs. They were cover with grass and tress so from the sky they looked like little hills. The event was called the Fusion Festival. There were lots of well known acts and performances from all over the world and we were one of them. They gave us 2 big tents with ten cots in each, one for the girls and one for the guys. We were there for 4 days. They only sold vegetarian food so we all started craving meat. There were lots of hippies. Maybe we scared them, but most people loved us. The festival gave us a certain amount of food & drink stamps per day, we felt like we were on welfare using the stamps. And the last day we were there of course the HMB collected all our left over tickets and went and got a case of beer for the bus train ride home, such hordes we are. More later... Mermaid 2006 by John Barker Tue, Jun 27, 2006: Another year, another Mermaid. This time- the rainy variety. Fortunately, it just kind of sprinkled all day until we finished. THEN it poured. This year we brought up the rear of the parade. And we had a greek 'The Odyssey' theme. One of our members wasn't sure people would be able to take in the entire classical work by Homer, but I was quite sure people would get the desired effect of Homer's epic poem. There were some clever outfits on our part, but sure enough, but the time we made it to the judges, the "sailors fall down! see circe! see the oracle! etc, etc, was lost on anyone who might notice. We did a nice redition of Squared's Vjerin Sa Sa. Sadly, the 'bribe the judges' schtick hasn't worked for the HMB for a number years. My first mermaid parade in 2001- we triumphantly marched straight to the water. It was quite the climax- finish the parade- march down the boardwalk, down the beach, and down to the water where we played. Not this year, sadly. It was wait around, then walk to the beach. THEN we were following some mermaid people and a big group of other peeps. Doing something, I don't know. I started to pull away, towards the beach, then I had some guy tell me to wait. Hold on a second- I thought this was the HMB's tradition... I was like "WTF?" to a few bandmates. We agreed we'd been co-opted. Then I got told by a power that be in the band that we were being paid to serenade the Mermaid People down to the beach for some ceremony. The same Mermaid people who didn't think we were the parade's best band anymore. And here I thought we were an "Anarchist Band" (according to the VV). I honestly didn't care- by the time I made it down to the water, I stood in the surf for a few moments, just looking out over the sea, with my sousaphone. Remembering back when what we did used to be kinda cool. But I had my moment. Then it was time to get out of the rain. Road rules.... by Bloody Rich Hutchins Tue, Jun 13, 2006: By now, many in HMB know that I keep a set of rules for touring. These are those lessons learned from time on the road with various bands. touring is much different from regular travel. especially when you're in a 30-piece band. even if i could afford to go get a nice hotel one night, you gotta stay together, and it isn't nice to take care of yourself when there would be 29 people needing a shower. so anyway... i will start the rukles here, but will update as i have time. Bloody Rich's Infamous Rules of the Road: 1) BRING TOILET PAPER. especially outside us, but anywhere. you need it. trust me 2) See a shower? TAKE ONE. NOW. god knows when the next one will be. everyone else will appreciate it. 3) See a bed? Go to sleep. lack of sleep is the #1 cause of stress on the road. 4) bring earplugs. sometimes you will have to sleep while people in the same room are playing music & partying ALL NIGHT. I'll finish later. btw- i am starting my touring band myths-fact or fiction? column. 1st myth - guys on the road are always picking up groopies. NOT TRUE.. not true. women on the road... however.. different story... i'm not sayin all women or even most will pick up groopies, but i've toured in 3 coed bands, and the % of women who picked up someone was higher than the men -& it was especially true for people in relationships, not just the single people... Also, single women on the road will pick up more people during the tour than the single guys will.... .the moral is.. if your partner is going on tour without you. you can actually trust a guy to be more faithful than a woman. i know all the women in hmb are going to kill me for bringing this fact to light.. but hey, i'm bloody rich.. i'll just be bloodier.. ciao! A PARTIAL VIEW OF THE FUNDRAISER by Mon, Jun 05, 2006: I (mostly) took the day off from twirling and instead served as an HMB helper monkey. It was great. I learned many things at the proverbial knee of Suzanne of the Issue Project Room, who probably didn’t realize I was taking notes: first of all, she is extremely adept at getting people to cough up more cash than they probably meant to. How? By saying, “Twenty dollars, please” right off the bat. This worked vastly better than my usual approach to asking people for money, which is something like, oh, all you’ve got is pocket lint? Thank you so much! I am terrible at asking people for money. I would never make it in the world of fundraising; people like Suzanne would eat me alive. Secondly, Suzanne has lots of interns, who show up on Sunday, and in a good mood. One of them got me coffee, and I didn’t even ask him to. I realize I need interns. At least, I need the Issue Project Room interns. They all wanted to help, and when there was nothing to do they charmingly discussed about what they did the night before and how the girl they liked called them and how exciting that is, etc. They were all about nineteen years old, bless their hearts. I would like to be nineteen years old again for a couple of days, provided I could take my 33-year old brain with me.
A Great Proposal! by John Barker Thu, May 18, 2006: Barker Proposes!! burn out by Bloody Rich Hutchins Wed, May 17, 2006: wow.. i never write in here, except to say how i never write in here.. so at least i'm consistant! anyway, going to europe again. can't wait. julie not coming this time, so i'll miss her & be going nuts like the 2003 tour without her.. anyway, i wish i could tour & play all the time, everyday for a living, but can't make much $$ in a 30 piece ensemble. which is why i am in other bands. if all the other bands start makking money, i could quit my job [although i LOVE my job... they rock, pay me ok, and let me go on tour with little hassle] but i could play drums all day if i didn't have to work,, i am saving a lot of money, and maybe in a few years, i can move to part time or work from the road - tele-commute. I can do so much of what i do from online already. Anyway- the other bands i am in include: Phideaux. every year or so he comes to town, we work on a cd, then i go to LA to record. Eugenics: we may change the name [since we're not nazi's] but we're still creatiing our 'sound' so noi rush... Includes Iain Potts, an english bloke i've known for 10 years on bass, Stu Spasm (head of Lubricated Goat] and Ian WIlson [singer of the Star Spangles.] We rock. alterna/punk/ny band. I also perform with Juliet Echo. That's Jen Emma's baby. she is a great songwriter singer/guitarist. we gig around, and have a recording thats almost done - i can't wait to hear!! Also, i jam in NOMAH - thats with Bradford Reed (the pencilini dude) Scott Moore (founder oif hmb who i knew in passing in philly!! i joined hmb and later found out he had help found it! also Erik Hubbel (branka, etc) and geoff on guitar. we do improv experimental/noise etc. I wish i had more time for these bands,.. but working takes up so much time. one day... Pustule invades NYC by Samantha Tsistinas Thu, Apr 27, 2006: Ah yes, Le Pustule... You'll be happy to know I'm trying my best to wear down the Pustules, it almost worked, It's in your hands now... No, no one's in trouble, don't worry. Sandra & I took 7 Pustules on a walk through Central Park yesterday. Sandra is a fountain of knowledge when it comes to NYC tidbits, she makes a great tour guide. I on the other hand just point at things and say, "there's a nice building, now let's go..." Six Pustules ended up going to the Empire State Building and Sabine, Sandra and I went and had lunch in Bryant Park and then went to the ladies room in the NY public library, I love that building. Then Sabine said she'd like to find a feminist, women's rights, book store, so we took her to Blue Stockings and then into Babes in Toyland. We headed over to CBGB's gallery to meet up with the rest of the Pustules and Sara V was bartending. Ben, Jason & Sebastian eventually showed up. In the meantime I got a call from Jason Blackcat asking me if I wanted to come to the Bushwick space to come collect some cheese and also to invite me to an art exhibition there. I said "no, I can't , I have a French Marching band ". He said bring them, they can play. So I asked the Pustules if they wanted to play and they said yes, but some didn't have their instruments, and the rest of the equipment was in Sebby's house which we rushed over to get because we were to play at 10:30, and only at 9:15 did we decide to do this. Chris & Sara met with the truck to bring the equipment to the show. We walked super fast from the J train to my house for a quick impromptu dinner of cheese crackers fruit & guacamole that happened to be left over from my roommates party the night before, plus of course more wine. I lent my snare drum to Chicken, Ben got a mouth piece for Sabine, and a pair of claves were given to Patron. I ordered up 3 car services at Metro right near my house. They got us to Bushwick in no time, however Chris and Sara were lost with the instruments in the truck. Finally, after much driving around and cell phone conversations with my car service guy, they found their way. We headed up stairs to a pretty empty low-key party where Jason Blackcat said go for it. Pustule hit the stage, and brought the party to LIFE! Oh it was so beautiful to hear them again, I forgot how much I love them and they are sounding better than ever, plus it wasn't even the full band! They fed us wine & beer, lots of people were dancing and happy. A friend said to me "Sam you are the only one I know who would show up with a French Marching Band in tow". Yeah, and then those stupid a-hole men in blue showed up to once again shut them down. They were told to play quieter and then one of the cops threatened to confiscate the instruments so I told them not to play at all. They played a good full half hour, so they were happy. They gave us more beer and we stuck around to play baci ball but with balls 3 times bigger than basketballs and 50 pounds each, then they attempted to play pool with a long 2 by 4. I'll send photos later. I rounded up the troops, called for 3 car services and came back to my place. We dropped off the instruments and went across the street to Sputin & Duvil, my favorite beer & wine bar, where Pustule broke out into a song. And we drank even more. They were happy, I won points, 20. And today I had 4 Pustules with me this morning, thankfully my first client had a late night too and moved her appointment to 4. Pustule, coming to a theater near you! Sam ON THE SUBJECT OF DUMBSHITS by Mon, Feb 20, 2006: Something about twirling a metal stick brings out the idiot in many people. First of all, everyone wants to show you that they can twirl better than you. "Lemme see that!" they say, and then perform a bastardized finger twirl a la (insert heavy metal drummer's name here)*. Alternatively, they want to talk to you about their sisters and cousins who have twirled the baton. All too rarely do they want to buy you a drink. The dumbest shit out of all the drunken dumbshits I have run into in the bars and clubs and venues we play had to be some guy whose name I wish I could remember so that I could post it here for everyone to take note of. He came to our Valentine's potluck show at CB's Gallery. I was taking a break from the stage area and wandered towards the back, where the food was. He intercepted me. "Let's see how you twirl that thing." Obligingly I twirled, like the trained, fishnetted monkey I have become. Mr. Dumbshit nodded approvingly. "You're OK," he admitted generously. I asked him if he twirled. "I competed in the under 16 Nationals," he replied. Wow! A pro! I offered my baton, and he declined with alacrity. "No, I can't, I tore my rotator cuff." I did wonder why a former national contender could not twirl with, say, his left hand, but I was too caught up in awe to say so. Instead I asked him if he could teach me some tricks. Once again, he declined, explaining to me that these things could not be taught, that "the baton has to become a part of you," which was something that cannot be taught. Then he proceeded to tell me what, exactly, my problem is as a performer.** Apparently, baton twirling doesn't mean enough to me, which is why I'm just, well, OK. "When you dropped the baton," El Dumbshit announced, "you didn't look crushed." This is where his backstory began to fall apart. Because any competitive performer will tell you that when you fuck up, no matter how badly you fuck up, the show must go on. I said as much to Dumbshit. He dismissed that airily with a drunken wave of his dumbshit hand, and just kept repeating how learning the tricks doesn't matter, even practice doesn't matter. What matters is loving the baton so much it becomes a part of you. At this point I took leave of his dumbshit drunken smirking face. I asked a friend of mine later why someone would approach another person for the sole purpose of belittling that other person, and on top of it, lie about his own prowess (his baton twirling prowess). Here was my friend's tidy, if nonsensical, explanation: "He was hitting on you." Note to dumbshits: if you want to hit on me, buy me a drink.
another day by Tara Fire Ball Mon, Jan 16, 2006: so we're in Spin magazine. Are we famous yet? When does one know if they are famous? Do we care? I want Spring more then I want fame right now. it's dark & cold outside but warm inside. Are you here because you want to hear about the HMB? The last time I saw members of the HMB was volunteering at the Golden Festival near Inwood Park. We stopped by to see our long lost trombone player Ethan, his wife Peggy & their daughter Alice. What a cutie. She gave us all bandiads for our wounds, I got a lot of mileage out of that one bandaid. Liberty & Alice had a good time & then we went over to the festival which was an incredible experience. There were people there from a few months old to 102, dancing, music, food, tents, crafts & more music! What a great time! dear diary.. by Bloody Rich Hutchins Tue, Jan 03, 2006: ya know, i never write in here... just wanted to tell you that. new years eve rocked. we did two gigs- first a private complacent party & then a rubalad. both were packed, we were drunk, rocked the shit out of both sets..... ciao HMB Gallery! by John Barker Wed, Dec 21, 2005: Check it out: HMB Gallery Thinking by Albert Guitjens Wed, Dec 07, 2005: Thinking about so much these days. Last time I saw the HMB in action was at the new rehearsal space for the winter months that Tara arranged with Chashama. I had to drive her up there is a rainstorm to sign that contract. The new space is a good space. Liberty & I worked out some new dance steps and moves together. We enjoyed Sasha's new song, we could hear it from the street so we practiced in the street as we will do. Then we walked 20 blocks each way to home depot to get a snake to fix the giant clog in the basement but stopped at Grand Central to see the Christmas Light show. That was a good day. Another Favorite Picture by Tara Fire Ball Wed, Dec 07, 2005: They love this one too, sweating men beating on drums with no shirts..There should be 2 photos here if this is working, both of the same thing. I want to see if one will appear on the main page. Don;t try it with a super big photo or it will screw everythingup. I tried that already but had to delete it.  Atsushi inside, a big favorite - by abject photo by Tara Fire Ball Tue, Dec 06, 2005: I am testing out uploading flickr pictures to blogs. This seems to work. this picture is very popular on Flickr. It was taken by Abject Photo. I put it up on my Flickr site. They love this picture and naked statues. it's a crazy world HALLOWEEN PARADE by Mon, Oct 31, 2005: I wasn't going to march in the parade this year. Then, as I was on my way to work on Halloween morning, I read a blurb in the paper about how the parade this year was a tribute to New Orleans, the Grand Marshall was a ten-year old trumpet player from the Big Easy, and that ReBirth Brass Band would be there. So I decided last minute to go.
WATCH THAT STICK, DRUNKY! by Fri, Sep 09, 2005: Friday night’s set for the Jollyship Whizbang fundraiser would have been a great night for me if I had been trying to set a record for hitting people accidentally with the baton. Every time I turned around: WHACK! “Hey!” “Whoops, (hic) sorry”. Luckily, I was drunk, so at the time it did not embarress me too much. That is, until Jason said to me (rather cryptically) “I’ll send you the bill.” I divined immediately that I had hit him with my devil stick;* even worse, I hit his instrument with my devil stick. I would rather, a million times over, hit a person than an instrument, and I believe the members of the HMB agree with me on that. I was mildly horrified, but probably not horrified enough for Jason. I apologized a few times, inquired about the condition of the instrument**, and said, in an attempt to crawl out from under my own guilt, “I think this should be filed under Shit Happens.” To which Jason responded, incredulously, “NO!” What I really meant by that was, “Can we agree this is a forgivable crime?”*** I slunk out early in shame.
The HOWL! Festival and Joe\'s Pub by Sun, Aug 28, 2005: The HMB had an 8:30am call time for the HOWL! parade. In my opinion, it is totally inappropriate for a parade commemorating East Village artists to start before, say, 1pm, but there you go. I was desperate to be on time but being 30 minutes late (and taking a cab) was the best I could manage.* Got to Cooper Square, found the HMB, gawked at Rosario Dawson and Taylor Mead. The East Village is beautiful in the morning when you are getting ready to march in a parade with a brass band, a starlet, and an aging Warhol Factory queen. My fatigue only enhanced this impression.
malembranc part deux by Anders Nelson Mon, Aug 15, 2005: The night became progressively more dionysian. I tried, often in vain, to avoid the creeping caterpillars that, according to the locals, would leave a nasty, itchy rash on your skin a couple of days after touching them. Other bands set up and played, including one with a great accordion player (a friend of washboard's, I think), that did a very cool traditional french style thing. It was the type of band where everyone knew the songs and sang along, except us, of course. I remember ending up on the ground, rolling an laughing uncontrollably at something sebastian and ben did or said. The caterpillars hung from the walls and roof over the patio. Eventually, cats from kadors moved their drum kit and selves inside, to what is apparently their traditional jamming center: the kitchen. I had more wine, milled around, and listened for awhile. People were either in the kitchen, dancing but having their ears utterly blown off, or crowding around the door, trying to get a better look at the scene inside. I hung out, eventually watching sam take over the drum kit, which began to seem more and more inviting. She finally looked up at me standing beside her with a smile and handed me her sticks. "Here," she said, "I'm tired, you play now." A perfect drummer's interaction. All competition had been made entirely unnecessary due simply to force and laziness. I sat down at the kit energized, though it must have been well after two, and began pounding out a beat. Eventually, ben meyers, joe tuba, sebastian, emily, mush, jason, and others filtered in and a confluence of bacchanalian forces produced an explosive and powerful set. We ran through underground faster than ever. I got into that zone where I watched my hands flying as if they belonged to someone else. We played versions of bumper2bumper and dzumbus that went to places we didn't expect. I'd be pumping out a punk-rock polka and suddenly we'd be in the heart of kingston, half-time, playing a steppers. People were into that shit. I sweat and yelled and rejoiced at the mystery of it all, and pushed each soloist as hard as I could, trying to increase their frenzy. Here's Squared passed out on one of the couches behind the house:  Report from Sardina by Tara Fire Ball Mon, Jul 04, 2005: Albert Liberty & I arrived via Frankfurt a few days ago. Florence, Tuscany, and the like by Jen Emma Wed, Jun 29, 2005: HI, Fianti Sprecati, the brass band from Florence is fun fun fun. The socialist squatted school in Florence is pretty great too...but too many mosquito bites for most of us. We also played a ceramic pottery festival...yes, it was pretty happening for a pottery festival...and we got homemade food and played for all in the streets. The organizer, Maximo, said we were the highlight. Did I write about this already? Also, a man said that we made his eyes BALLS FOR TENNIS. He said this in English...so that has been a joke. We also stopped in Pisa on our way to Genoa to get the ferry ride. the leaning tower of Pisa, which we were going to busk at but did not have enough time to do, is actually beautiful and it is behind a marvelous church made out of white and green marble...I had no idea that it was beautiful...everything else was disgustingly touristy and that vibe of Pisa carried us to Genoa...which has become famous to Americans to the anti-globalist who got shot down. Well, the WTC building does stick out in town and our getting on the ferry and meeting 4 members of the band there was a huge challenge!! due to miss connections in Paris, dropping off the rental cars, a last minute train ride from the Milan airport, the fact that two boats leave at night to Sardinia, and that we had a gig the next day where we needed all members for (Anders, the snare drummer had left two days previous so rich needed to be there!!) caused the stress level to rise. But everything worked out in the end, everyone made the boats just in time...and it helped to wake up in paradise. It is SO BEAUTIFUL here, it is ridiculous and the people are truly lovely. Our Sardinian manager Francesca, friends of LUCA (a HMB trumpeter who helped out with the planning since is from here) has gotten us great gigs, made posters, got us in the newspapers, set up excellent housing, and also Carlos and Francisco too, both musicians themselves, are driving us around, showing us the best beaches, just unbelievable people. I am feeling very lucky to be in this wonderful island, its semi arid landscape, unique rock formations, and warm water beaches make me speechless. Oh wait, and playing, we are playing music too! we played all over this little town called San Torrero, the crowd was great, the kids loved us, and we got to march in the streets, in the restaurants, and on the beach too. And only in Europe...the police requested that we played in the streets!! It was so fun last night to see the crowd clapping to our tunes...and we get to do it again. Oh wait, did I mention in Florence, that we played in the main square right off the Uffizi gallery...late at night? Sorry it’s all blending together now, the crowds. Ciao for now! HI! by Jen Emma Sun, Jun 26, 2005: I have a few hours to get in the sight seeing in Florence. I have never been here and am a major art lover-former painter.so the beautiful works, despite the throgs of tourists (alas, so am I...) deeply resonate with me. Truly beautiful. 2 nights ago we arrived from the south and were very happy to see Sasha's connection here work out. They are in another marching band and we played together at Ponte Vecchio for about 3 hours exchanging songs with each other. There was a great trombone player, in red sweatpants, whipping the crowd up with is hard core playing. Ben Meyers did a lovely St. James solo intro and a wedding couple came by and got their picture with us...also, when we played don cosmic, a lovely couple danced to our grove and I think were a little surprised when various HMB members danced around them! Both bands, about 30 of us, then went to a restaurant and we had a late night dinner...I would say it was really lovely. Last night, we played a ceramic pottery festival, yes, it might not sound thrilling but we hit high points, we only have 5 CDs left now. We were happy to find beer from quince's friend after playing in the hot evening. The traveling in the van & car does weigh on us though...hey, now off to busk again in Florence. jen emma=with attitude!! Return to Coney Island by John Barker Sun, Mar 20, 2005: It wasn't bad for an overcast Sunday morning in March. Certainly great to hang out with 17 other members of the band, have some great photo ops, and be able to usher in the opening of the Cyclone, and take the very first ride on it. The Cyclone is still so jarring and trepidatious to ride on, it's a whole lot of fun. The band got taken care of, with our very own green room, and while there wasn't a huge crowd, any excuse to get together and play in Coney is fine with me. And Coney opening wouldn't be complete without a ride on the bumper cars, in this case it was me, Ruth, Julie, and Rich smashing each other about ("no head on bumping"). The wonderful Tim LeGasse showed up and it was great to see him. Entry 2 by Samantha Tsistinas Sun, Mar 06, 2005: damn I'm tired, 2 shows this weekend. Played at Tonic from midnight until 2 am, very fun show! Even did some freestyling rapping. Had plenty of beer on stage, never had to be interupted because of lack of beer. Thanks for setting that up Sebestian! Knitting Factory was mad fun too! It was packed and people were dancing, not like that one time we played there and the audience was full of duds sitting there watching us as if they were at the theater. GET UP AND Dance fools! Even got see Shonen Knife. Romashka were great, Illuminecnse Orchistra were fabulous too and DJ Hutz was spinning the dancing mayhem. OK, nap time. JUST WAIT TILL I TELL WHAT I KNOW by Wed, Feb 23, 2005: Can't right now though, I'm at work wahoo we're back by Bloody Rich Hutchins Wed, Feb 16, 2005: New Orleans was great. We played 4 big parades, from 3 to 6 miles in length. i had tape on my hands by the 3rd one, due to blisters. We went over very well, and on the flight home 2 different people recognized Julie & I- saying 'weren't you in that band in some parades?" One may even have video and i gave him hmb website in case he does. he sadi it would be like 30 secods as we wnt by, but hey, that would be cool! NOLA Memories by Urania Mylonas Wed, Feb 16, 2005: The prospect of performing in four parades, each averaging about 4.5 miles, seemed daunting, to say the least. My fellow Colorguard/Pleasure Society co-horts, Sandra on hoops, Jean and Wendy Subzero dancing and doing acrobatics, and Veronica and me on baton, came up with choreography and different "walks," we could use for the duration of the parades. This was a lot of freaking exercise! But I was also wondering how on earth the band could play, and play well, for that long. But play they did. They don't call HMB the hardest working marching band in the, er, marching band world for nothing. The first parade, Krewe of Excalibur, was in a town called Metairie. Metairie is the largest suburb of the Greater New Orleans Metropolitan area. The name comes from a French language term for a tenant farm which paid the landlord with a share of the produce ( sharecropping ), as this was the main activity of the area in the early 19th century. As my friend, a Louisiana native, said, "I try not to tell people I'm from Metairie." But Metairie wasn't that bad! As a matter of fact, they loved the HMB. Despite it being a wicked cold night, we bravely marched, danced and played through the streets of Metairie, pausing to drink in the adulation from the crowds. Sandra was working that hoop like no other, and the people loved her. Jean's smile lit up the night and Veronica's baton made the little girls (and boys) on the sidelines dizzy. There were many beautiful moments during this parade, such as when Sandra pointed up to the trees, whose branches sparkled with hundreds of beads, illuminated by the lamposts. It was really breathtaking. Probably the best compliment I've ever heard came from a guy who said, "You guys remind me of a John Waters film." The parade organizers actually called Samantha the next day and invited us to do another parade, but we were already booked. The next day brought us Uptown to Le Krewe d'Etat. We got really good beads at this one. There was an illuminated glass block engraved with the Krewe d'Etat logo. Again, we were received warmly, and we played, danced and flirted with the crowds. At one point, the band played Blue Pepper and we broke into our choreography, done up by the divine Miss Veronica. Wendy Subzero did some daredevel acrobatics and we dubbed her our "Ninja Colorguard." It was a huge hit. The song, the dancing, everything. The band was playing really well. So well that even the silence smiled! What a night! Our third parade was Krewe of Tucks, also Uptown. There is a kind of quiet beauty about a parade whose theme is the toilet. I especially loved the beads with the monk holding a plunger. I actually gave my first set of those beads to a child whose mother thanked my profusely as tears welled up in her eyes. I did manage to get another set towards, the er, end. I forget which night we did the Hi-Ho Lounge gig (saturday or sunday). In any case, it was great! The Hi-Ho is a colorful, grungy place that reminded me of Rubulad. There were amazing Cirkus kids there and some familiar faces from the End of the World Circus, including the formidable Pierre Pressure. The HMB rocked hard that night, and my friend, Michael Deas, a saint in the Church of Stop Shopping, and fabulous NOLA artist, was blown away by the band. "You guys have incredible stage presence," he said. Neither Veronica or I brought our batons that night, but we managed to find a pipe in the street and we gave informal baton twirling lessons and a brief show. I know we taught some folks to twirl that night, even though our baton wasn't "regulation." The last parade on our "work" list was Krewe of Thoth, the longest parade in our schedule, at a whopping six miles! Panorama Marching Band was also in this parade, and they sounded great. One of our hosts, Ben Schenk, is in Panorama, as was Patrick. I believe it was at this parade that John "The Bone" Barker discovered the "four drinks for four dollars" special at the bar on the corner of Magazine and Napolean. This was an enormous help to us all, as we were in dire need of hydration. "Why can't they have bars like this on EVERY corner?" Barker was heard lamenting in between sips of Kamikazes. The next day found us at the Krewe du Poux parade, an unpermitted, raucous parade filled with crazy Cirkus kids. Sandra and I almost didn't make it to this one because we couldn't get past Canal street to our hotel. She and I had been helping our friend Michael build his "Johnny Carson in Heaven" costume and had lost track of time. Michael saved the day by lending Sandra a gorgeous pirate shirt, vest and belt, and we transformed her into a gorgeous, goth pirate. That night there was an eerie mist in the streets and if you looked behind you, the band was coming out of the mist, kind of like that movie "The Fog," only without the homicidal pirates. We wound up at the Dragon's Den, where the HMB played for a bit. At one point, a cop on a motorcycle barreled through, got off his bike, ran after someone, spun them around, and then got back onto his bike. I leave this here for your perusal, as I cannot explain it. Afterwards we wished our friend Doris a very happy birthday and went upstairs to hear the great band Radio Fantastique. We ended the evening at the wonderful Cafe Brazil, owned by the mysterious Adeh. The As Is Orchestra was playing that night, and I've never danced quite so feverishly. Mardis Gras day found the HMB at the Societe of St. Anne parade, a colorful, over the top affair filled with gorgeous people. My friend Donald told me "Whatever you do, you absolutely must go to the St. Anne parade." Donald is a member of the Radical Fairies. I loved the costumes in this parade. There was Dick Cheney in prison garb, beautiful carnival girls, an ethereal jellyfish, and more. Johnny Carson was even floating among the crowds! We made our way through the French Quarter, drunk on the colorfully costumed crowds around us, and they were drunk on us! "I love you HMB," someone called out. We will definitely be back Slapped in the face by BEADS! by Urania Mylonas Thu, Feb 10, 2005: DAY ONE: Whoah. NOLA kicked my ass and almost gave me a split lip! I never knew just how much I needed BEADS. At first, I was standoffish, but Sandra, my ever trusty roommate and comrade convinced me that whoring for beads was my destiny. We watched the Krewe of Muses go by on Wednesday the 2nd, and it was spectacular. Muse Krewe participants threw tiny shoes down to the spectators! it was amazing. Sandra and I were soon joined by the lovely Jean and Ben Myers, who also went bead crazy. I think Ben actually knocked Jean out of the way to get at some particularly good aligator beads. Jason was also getting beads, but was not exhibiting the slightly alarming psychosis that the rest of us were experiencing. By far, though, the big winner of the night was Sandra "Hoop it UP" Glazer, who came home with amazing beads, toys, stuffed animals, you name it. She's got a technique, and it works. Ask her to show you next time. The Fourth Day- Sunday by John Barker Sun, Feb 06, 2005: I was bracing for the long-ass 6 mile Krewe of Thoth parade. But since I had gotten a good night's sleep, was adequately hydrated and nourished, and the fact that the parade stopped all-the-time and we had plenty of breaks and nourishment supplied to us on the route, the parade went pretty easily. The parade wasn't without incident, until it was done and JoeTuba picked the wrong place to relieve himself and was seen by NOLA's finest. Joe was lucky in that an apology and extreme scolding were the only things he had to go through. I had a most excellent meal (calimari poboy) at Mother's afterwards. Mother's is pretty much the Katz Deli of New Orleans. Ended hanging out with Veronica (Piranhica, Demonica), Jason, Sasha and Tim, finishing off the vast amounts of food that was being past around. It was interesting playing tbone again. I did have the opportunity to switch off with Joe a few times, to give him some relief for carrying the Sousa. But I found myself playing either the bass/sousa line on my bone, or the trombone part. I didn't stick to either part. The last time I played bone was the Mummer's parade on new years day 2002, and the slide kept freezing. But it was just like riding a bike. The Third Day- Saturday by John Barker Sat, Feb 05, 2005: Another long-ass parade, ending up tooling around Canal street as we finished. Lot's of people. Priority for the band was then to secure rides to transport us out of the area (eat, rest, party, etc). So a bunch of us made a long-ass walk to Quince's car. My leg's and feet were killing me, so I was eager to get out of the area as wel, or at least chill before the Hi Lo party that night. We get to Quince's car, which was parked under the overpass, and immediately note that it's boxed in by a pickup. We quickly went through our options as how to get the car out. Okkon made the suggestion that we try to push the pickup. So a bunch of us get in front of it and pick it up slightly, then push. To our amazement it moved back (it was a stick shift). It went back about a car length, leaving a small space that Quince could possibly angle out, but it wasn't enough. By now a number of revellers had taken interest in our plight, and we decided we had enough muscle to use our previously discarded option of picking up the back end of the pickup, moving that 4 or 5 feet so that the pickup could be pushed back further. Tim had helped to assemble the crew and it was 1-2-3 LIFT and we could the task done with no back injury to anyone.  Quince manouevered his car out sans difficulty and we were on our way. We decided to lift the pickup once more so that it could be angled and pushed into a new parking place, and accomplished that feet in a few seconds. We could only then speculate what the errant driver would think when/if they located their displaced vehicle.After our third long parade, it was decided to go to a Thai place, that Michele had worked at. I was totally wiped and just wanted to chill. I had walked around the french quarter for a few hours before hooking up with everyone. Finding the Thai restaurant, and the band members, i noticed that the seating was such that you sit on the floor and eat. I have nothing against such practices, but damn, i just wasn't in no mood to sit on no floor. Adding to the ruckus, band members kept showing up, rearranging tables, and the server was completely overloaded. Not wanting to add to her frustration by having to deal with my desire to order food, i joined Quince, Jason, a recovered Sasha, and JenEmma in the downstairs part, where my dining order was taken (and the teriyaki steak was excellent). While upstairs, we discussed the parade goer's desire to see exposed breasts. One person had queried Urania to that ends to which she commented "I couldn't do that with children... and Barker... around". 1st Night at Mardi Gras by John Barker Wed, Feb 02, 2005: The ever awesome JoeTuba picked me up. we then got Sasha later at the airport. she wasn't feeling too hot. Then she was really sick. So a little later we dropped her off at the hostel and she just crashed out. I hope she feels better tomorrow. Finally everyone got together at the parade site, and things finally fell into place. The parade was longer than i thought, but by the time it was over, it was no huge thing. It was weird playing trombone again, switching between playing the trombone parts (thanks Ben!) and my more familiar bassline. I can definitely say it was great playing with everyone. We sort of marched in formation (much moreso than we normally had, and I thought it cool folks gave it a try. Joe, Sam, Nat, and I went to 'Verti Mart' in the Quarter and I got some chips. We ran into Anton and Tim. That was a lot of fun hanging with them. Joe dropped me off at Nowe Miastas, the place I would crash, and i was pretty happy to call it a night! Though, when finding a bed to crash on, we had incorrectly surmised which room was the guest room. And since I picked wrong, that next morning around 8am a member of the house walked in and wondered who was sleeping her unmade bed (there were no sheets, just a mattress). Apologetically, I took a place on the comfy couch. Entry 1 by Samantha Tsistinas Sun, Jan 02, 2005: Wow, we have a blog! Cool, just remind me to write and I will. The end of 2004 went out with a bang, and I should also say a crash! A Cymbal crash that is, because the HMB had one gig after another starting on Thursday at Galapagos. We rocked the house with 2 killer sets. The place was packed, it was New Year's Eve's Eve. We sold all our cds. The gig was listed in the Village Voice as pick of the week, so we had new people to entertain, and they were dancing up a storm. I even made $5! New Years Eve we played at the Knitting Factory with Frank London's Klematics and a Brazilian Samba Band. I had started out my night riding with Critical Mass through the streets of NYC. As usual, we met up in Union Square at 7. The cops were handing out fliers saying "it is dangerous to ride in a procession... bla bla bla..and you will be arrested..." That was the last thing I wanted on New Year's Eve, especailly becasue we had 3 shows to play. I took my chance and rode anyway with my cymbals in my backpack. Those things get heavy! There were hardly any cops, they were just trying to scare people away. They were all too busy up at Time Square, which was where were were headed, but in an in-direct way. We rode on some crazy route which ended up circling around the Time Square Area. You could see all the street venders selling all that crap people buy for the celebration. There were lots of pople walking around, not too many cars. People cheered us on. It was a great ride, but we had to split to make our 9:00 gig at the Knitting Factory, so we rode all theway down from 56th street along with Critical Mass until we eventually split ways... Knitting Factory was short but sweet. All 3 band played together at the of the show. There were about 30-40 musicians. It was fun. The audience loved it. Then it was off to The Theatre For the New City for the Feva/Rubulad party where we were scheduled to go on around 11:30. Four of us had our bikes, so we had our own mini Critical Brass bike ride. Emily, Sebastion, Shanley and I rode over together. I stopped to get some quick take out sushi and saw Jeremy and Auria sitting at the counter and they invited me to sit with them. I order some sushi and it arrived fast, they were still waiting for their food. I chowed down on it, yummmmmmmm & ran across the street to the next show where there was a huge line going around the block. Yikes, it was crowded. I found our backstage coat check area and got settled in. It was around 11:45. I was worried Nat wouldn't get in because he went to another party and I was worried I wouldn't have some champaigne for the midnight toast. I found Ben and the drink tickets. The lines to the bars were huge. I was getting anxious because we were suppossed to be playing soon and I had no drink and no boyfriend to kiss at midnight. Suddenly Nat appeared, the barteder handed me my champaigne, the band was gearing up, everything fell into place. Sandra led us out into the crowd where we got stuck during the countdown to midnight. I don't even know if there was one. Who knew, no one seemed to know when it was and what the exact time was. I just kept kissing Nat and drinking my drink just in case it was midnight. We finally made our way through the annoying crowd up to the stage, which was not big enough for us. But we managed to squeeze in with half on stage and half off. We played for about 45 minutes or so, the place was packed, the crowd was loving us. I was lucky to have my friend Yelena watching us because she kept passing me some Soviet Champaigne, or whatever it was, it was good. We played and played and then when we were finished we marched back through the crowd once more, back to our coat check room. And everyone said they were leaving. What??? Why?? Wimps! It was New Year's Eve, I wanted another drink. They were all worried they wouldn't wake up in time for our gig out in Coney Island the next morning. The good thing was, eveyone gave me their extra drink tickets! Yay! But I only used 2 anyway, I gave the rest away. The rst of the party was fun. I saw lots of people we knew and hadn't seen in a while. It was the first time since 6"30pm that I could actually relax and socialize. But i did want to get a few hours of sleep too for the next gig. I was in bed by 3:30am, I was amazed it was so early. The bike ride home was fun because I got to see the hundreds of yuppies trying to get a taxi home and they were all full. I told some of them to get a bike! I hate taking taxis on New Years. I got up at 9am got dressed brushed my teeth and got on the bike to ride to the D train at Grand and Chrystie where the Polar Bear Express Train was to pick me up. The train was from the 1930s and they were doing a one time special ride to Coney Island for the Polar Bear Swim. Ruth and Robin got on at Columbus Circle, where the ride bagan. Next, Jason, Rich and Julie hopped aboard at Lafeyette St. As I waited for the train to arrive, I fixed my makeup and tried to make myself look awake. I got plenty of stares sitting on the subway platfrom at 9:30am in a marching band jacket and red crinaline skirt, but I like the attention! (just kidding) By the time the right train came I was already to get on. I put my hat on and the train pulled up and I looked in the first car and didn't see the others at first. And then I heard screaming for me to get on, and there they were and everyone applauded my arrival. It was a great feeling, even though I still had no caffiene yet. We played a couple of songs and then when we hit Atlantic Ave in Brooklyn we looked for Joe and Michelle, but didn't see them. And the doors were about to shut and suddenly they appeared out of no where! We applauded their arrival and we were all happy happy!! They crowd on the train loved us. Our last song we played on the train was Choli Ke Peechhe, and we couldn't have timed it better. We pulled up to the Coney Island stop just as the last drum solo of the song ended and the doors opened. We could not ever have planned that in a million years. It was PERFECT. the crowd cheered and we all got off the train and headed towards the Aquqrium where breakfast and caffeine were awaiting us! They had a nice spread for us, we were all very happy to eat, especially Michelle and I. Then at 11;30 they covinced us to go watch a seal show, which was very cute. i missed most of it because I was looking for the bathroom and came upon the jellyfish room which I was faasinated by, and then the sea otter who looked just like our cat Guava. Finally it was time to play on the boardwalk. We walked toward the crowd that was formed around the Polar Bears. We plaed a bit on the boardwalk and then led a procession down to the water where there was already a huge crowd. It was a bit kaotic and un-organized, but who cares, it was still a blast. Ruth, Robin, Jean, Rich, Al and I, were the only ones to go in, I think Sandra stuck her feet in too. I had my bikini on. I ran in up to my butt, i couldn't take it, holy shit it was cold!! It hurt, I ran right out and put some clothes back on. HMB played some more on the beach. We had a nice big crowd around us. Veronica dn Evelyn were dancing like maniacs, Ben was passing aroubd the Danish whiskey, yikes! Rich was soaked, he actaully went under water,-no way!! I showed eveyone my bot-fly scar. (The bug bite I had since November from Peru that wouldn't heal, so I went to get it checked out and found out I had some living larva creature using me as it's host! Fucking lovely-NOT! Nat squeezed it out for me, he had one too.) We played more near the boardwalk on the sand. Sandra sold about 40 cds, They loved us. We played St. James and walked onto the boardwalk and towards the Aquarium and finally finished. It Was a great 3 days, but I have a cymbal hang-over- not drink related at all, I swear! The Recording Session by John Barker Fri, Jun 25, 2004: Three days of recording sessions at the famed LoHo Studios in Manhattan. We got to the studio around 2pm, got mic'd, and then started playing. JoeTuba and I were placed between the trombones and the rhythm section. It was helpful to keep time that way. And the trumpets weren't too off. Plus I don't think i've seen that many mac powerbooks in one place at once. It seemed like everybody had one. Samantha and i took a stroll over to a nice mexican place to get some carry-out. I was really happy in the end when we re-recorded 'Underground', then took a group picture you see on that page. The recording session was a blast. ABOUT SQUARED by Fri, Jun 04, 2004: Greg has the impressive jaw and earnest look of a matinee idol from the 1950’s or ‘60’s.* “Look,” says the strong-jawed, earnest young hero, “I don’t know much about this crazy, mixed-up world we live in, but I know one thing: I love you.\" Or, \"We\'re getting out of here, I tell you. Alive, dammit, ALIVE!” That’s what Greg is like.
WEEK TWO by Thu, Jun 03, 2004: Over two weeks and however many countries, the band is ramping up to great. They are all bent on the same thing, which is blowing the roof off every song they play. In the downtime they bicker, procrastinate, take care of each other, joke around, have passing grievances and minor meltdowns, trade massages and ointment. This band doesn’t fight the way many large groups fight in similar situations. Considering it’s their first extended tour, and in Europe, they cooperate valiantly, beautifully. I start to fall in love with them around this time. They are like a rowdy band of second cousins, and every gig is a family reunion.
ABOUT ATSUSHI by Tue, Jun 01, 2004: Atushi has two signature facial expressions: Mona Lisa and Cheshire Cat.
ABOUT ANDERS by Sat, May 29, 2004: Snare drummer. Has a BS in Philosophy* from New York University. Shock of thick, stiff black hair that probably grows about 2 inches a week. (Has admitted under duress to having a hairy ass.) Could pass for an extremely bright, interesting teenager. Is in fact 22 years old. Expert on quality chocolate, and on packing luggage for 10, plus large bulky instruments, into the back of a Ducati van in 9 minutes flat. "Anders!" someone would yell. "We need your Tetris eye!" And he would report immediately to the back of the the van, stand there cupping his chin, and direct the load in piece by piece until it was stacked and fitted like a dull black puzzle.
KASSEL #1 by Fri, May 28, 2004: It is not all roses on the tour. I privately, progressively lose my shit. It is this loss of my shit, figuratively speaking, that causes me to burst out at Sasha one day, as she peeked over my shoulder at something I was writing, “How on earth did you get to be so nosy?” It is this same loss of shit that causes me to take extreme offense at Squared calling me “Moronica”. I simmer in silence on the van for hours on end. I have nothing nice to say. More than anything I want to go away and be alone for, say, 3 days. I have no place in this group. I don’t know what my place is in this group.
WEEK ONE by |
