Thursday, September 28, 2006

raising the profile of Davezine?

I’ve been spending part of this day trying to raise the profile of the Davezine by getting a few leads on places out of town. This is the little descriptive blurb I’ve written about it for when I shop it out to new venues:

Davezine Number 12: (Karl) Love Story is a goofy political satire with National politics applied to a smaller scale. Karl Love is a political mastermind who has fallen on some bad luck: a year in a mental institution treating a crippling case of Freudian slip, followed by a gambling addiction which costs him the family fortune. When he teams with Jack Roulette, lobbyist for the casino industry in an effort to bring legalized gambling to the city of Beatown, all that stands in their way are an apathetic mayor and an assassin with OCD.

When I get picked up in a new place, I will list it here and on the web site.

Atomic Books
1100 W. 36th Street
Baltimore, MD 21211
410.662.4444
Red Emma’s Bookstore/Coffeehouse
800 St. Paul Street, Baltimore, MD 21202
410-230-0450

Or
my site where you can read an excerpt.

Monday, September 25, 2006

Recital

The latch on my car door is broken (it won’t shut and is being held together with rope and an old cable lock), the passenger side door won’t lock from the inside, the trunk won’t shut, my radio has been stolen, I’ve been hit twice and have dents on the side and rear.
My bicycle seat was stolen, my keyboard has broken keys, my drum set has always been falling apart. The washer is leaking water into my basement. There are 6 TVs in my house, 4 of which are in the living room and serve different purposes (one only gets ESPN2). And when I get to work…dull knives not sharp enough to cut through bread but still sharp enough to cut my finger.
I started to write a song about these things awhile back but for now I’m just waiting for someone to come fix the washer.
www.daveygandthekeyboard.com

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Davezine availability

I have put this notice up on myspace and now it's on my blog. It's almost time to go to the track so this is it for the day. All I can say is that people should support these fine institutions in the Baltimore area who are so kind to give me a spot on their shelves.


The zine is now out and available to the public in the following locations:
Atomic Books
1100 W. 36th Street
Baltimore, MD 21211
410.662.4444

And at
Red Emma’s Bookstore/Coffeehouse
800 St. Paul Street, Baltimore, MD 21202
410-230-0450

Or directly from
my site where you can read an excerpt.

That is all. Enjoy!

Monday, September 18, 2006

Davezine 12 Wrap-up

Davezine Number 12 Release
At the Talking Head, Saturday, September 16
With Scott Alexander, Paperback Tragedy, and Ra Ra Riot

(photo courtesy of Ben Stiefel--thanks!)
As some may remember, this show was pretty much on hold for months, as I had venue trouble and was unwilling to settle for a small show that didn’t meet expectations. So it was good to finally take the stage again, after another 4 month break.
It was a perfect storm; getting thrown with Ra Ra Riot, whom I’d never heard before (except a few songs on myspace) who have something of a following. Their presence accounted for a good portion of the crowd, and with Scott bringing his people and Paperback Tragedy bringing theirs and me bringing mine, this show had the best turnout of any of my previous Talking Head Club shows. I played 3 brand new songs, and now I know how to scream without blowing out my voice.

Scott Alexander’s style, spaztic and hard to categorize, kept a large group of people mesmerized, especially after handing out cookies after the second song. Paperback Tragedy moved me with a song about gentrification in South Baltimore “moving us dirtballs out.” I always bitch about the same thing, but I’m really just an outsider who moved in and called Baltimore home--to them this really is their home, making it all the more tragic and annoying that yuppie fucks are displacing them. Cool. Very loud.

I used my old keyboard, opting to save the one I bought on e-bay. I think I hit a level where my mistakes are not such a big deal; I can pretty much recover without too much difficulty. Suggestions I’ve been given have helped me to make the show so much better than it was 4 or 5 years ago. I’ve also borrowed one or two tricks from other performers--like when I’m only a few songs into the set and someone yells for “Man-Friend” or “Breaking the Law” (my closer) I borrow a line from Mojo Nixon, who greeted such requests with “Don’t worry, I’ll play all those super-hits later.”
I did 16 songs, including new ones “Handshake,” “Overdue” (about “relatable concerns” such as having overdue library materials) and “Be My Friend,” about myspace, where during the chorus I scream (in that aforementioned non-voice-losing way) “BE MY FRIEND! BE MY FRIEND! BE MY FUCKING FRIEND!!” and of course, I climaxed with my lotion bit.

Ra Ra Riot, a 7 piece out of Syracuse, really surprised me. As good as myspace is for some things, it is somewhat limited for experiencing music. The power and intensity of this band live was amazing--I’ve become a fan of “Dying is Fine.” They also covered Madonna’s “Like a Prayer.”

I was very happy for the perfect storm that led Ra Ra Riot to me for this show. For many reasons I would rate this show a perfect 10 out of 10, for the turnout, the execution, and the audience response.

www.daveygandthekeyboard.com

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Anatomy of a bad restaurant experience

Michele and I have been driving by this place for months now--a new Indian Restaurant on Falls Road that we were kind of curious about, and finally on a recent weekend we had favorable circumstances for a trip from which we are still reeling.

Anatomy of a Bad Restaurant Experience

I am not a food critic, nor a food snob. But right off the bat I could see any number of problems that should have sent us running. First of all, the inside was pretty much set up as a carry-out joint with tables, not conducive to a long stay, even though this place billed itself as “Dine-in/carry out.” There was no one anywhere around to greet or acknowledge us. In fact, there was no one in the restaurant at all, which I would take as a bad sign except for the fact that I knew this place had not been open for long. One look at the menus up front told me that this place was an extension of the Pizza Bolis next door, as half of the menu was Pizza Bolis spliced together with a page from an Indian Menu, kind of a Frankenmenu of takeout. After a few moments of hesitation I, fearing the general awkwardness of the walk-in/walk out in a restaurant, charged ahead.

Our waiter, once he emerged, appeared to be the only person working here, doing both cooking and serving…not that it would be much of a problem with only two customers in the joint, but not a particularly optimistic sign on their part about their ability to attract dine-in customers either. He seated us and put the Pizza Boli menus down. The selections, especially the vegetarian options, were not very extensive--there wasn’t any Naan to be found anywhere on the mere one page of Indian selections in what I thought was supposed to be an Indian restaurant. And color me cheap, but there didn’t seem to be a single item on the menu that was less than 10 dollars.
As we sat, I saw a man in a purple shirt approaching, and I commented to Michele, “Oh, here comes somebody,” thinking it was another customer. Little did I know that this is where this already slightly- off experience would take a turn for the worst.

The man in the purple shirt turned out to be the owner of Boli’s, and this place, and once he saw his empty joint had customers, he latched onto us like grim death.
We had ordered a variation of the same thing, me a chicken jalfreizei and Michele shrimp (which she had to ask for special since it wasn’t on the extremely limited menu). Before the food came, the owner, a Russian (?) sat down right next to us. He started chatting us up, and I figured he was just going to talk to us for a few minutes and leave us alone. He asked what my girlfriend did, where she comes from, and upon finding out her occupation, asked her--“You in marketing? Can you help me? Why I have no business? Can you help me?”

and from then on he dominated our entire experience, asking us questions he had no right knowing the answers to, sometimes getting to an epic level of discomfort as to their personal nature-- “Where exactly do you live--what number?” and “Who’s paying for the meal, him?” and “Why he not shave?”


I hope (and I don’t think) I’m not weird about this, but I really, really hate to talk to people while I’m eating…unless it’s somebody that I’m comfortable with, or at least know. I hate to be forced into a social situation while I’m eating, especially one with someone with no social ability who is going to criticize me in front of my girlfriend. All we could think afterward was “thank God that wasn’t a first date or something”--at least we know each other well enough to take the whole unpleasantness in stride.

So one can imagine our horror when our garrulous and awkward Russian host (owner of the Indian restaurant) remained in the seat next to us and never stopped trying to talk to us, even after our food had arrived! Suddenly I got into lockdown mode. I realized with absolute anger and frustration, that the man who bitched about the fact that he had no customers, was bothering the only customers he had. Once like you’ve boarded the roller coaster, we were now strapped in for the ride. We had no choice but to go through with the meal, as all the while the Russian sat at the next table, facing us, talking in a thick and hard-to-understand accent, making this meal something to endure, rather than enjoy.

The 12 dollar dishes, served with rice, which inexplicably came minutes before the meal, with no silverware, came without the third plate necessary for noshing--I would have figured if we were being hovered over as much as we were, the Russian would see that we needed another plate, but he just kept sitting and watching us and obliviously rambling through our meal, digging for information and making nonsensical statements in that thick accent. He did pour us water, and said “I want to fire this guy,” indicating our waiter, “He no good.”

About 15 minutes into the ordeal, he became focused on “what kind of discount you want?”--like we were owed some kind of discount because we happened to be the only people in the restaurant stupid enough to…be in the restaurant. “What kind of discount you want?” he repeated, numerous times, adding to the general discomfort of the situation. In times of stress, people revert to type, and by this time, we had each done our best to deal with this. Michele handled him with as much humor and grace as she could manage, even indulging him when he showed her a photo album of pictures of flowers--pictures I wasn’t even sure if he took--and I just tried to sit and stare forward and not engage him. It occurred to me to maybe play the asshole card to make him leave, but just as quickly as the thought came to me I realized
a) I didn’t have it in me just then and
b) it wouldn’t have made him go away, just turned the situation into something hostile to go along with the annoyance.
I also thought, if this had been any other person, an employee, or another customer, we could have talked to the owner of the manager and gotten comped, or some kind of discount. But as this guy was the owner, there was really nothing we could do, short of walking out mid-meal, or in this case, swearing to ourselves if we survived this, we would never come back.
“Where you going next? What you do now?” and one final round with the “what kind of discount you want?” and mercifully, the check arrived: $24.13, a fucking fortune for what was probably the worst dining experience I’ve had in a very long time. We paid, left a tip, were followed to the door as we walked away. As soon as we were free from his clutches the one prevailing thought was “Never again.”

We are fairly thrifty people; for Michele and I, a nice meal out is one of our few real luxuries. For the most part, we have scored well trying new restaurants, never being sorry to have spent hard-earned dollars. So I guess we were due for a bad time: an example of what is at stake if we do not choose…wisely.

...
big show Saturday, see you there!
www.daveygandthekeyboard.com

Monday, September 11, 2006

This Week...big show!

I put up some posters at the Talking Head Club this weekend during their Reverent Fog festival, the posters that Cory pulled together for me in about an hour. I kind of freaked a little last week because I didn’t really have anything ready, and then when I made something, it turned out to not look so good blown up. We took the chips and cards picture from the cover of my new ‘zine and used it as the background for all the information. It actually looks very professional. I realized that my visual talent lends itself more to the ‘zine format, and doesn’t work so well on a big scale. I wish I could put a picture up here but my scanner is too small, dammit!
Now I feel a very busy week ahead of finishing the copying of Davezine, practicing like a motherfucker--since I have some new songs I don’t have as firmly ingrained in my head as my old familiar classics--and getting as many people as possible to come out to this show. I think the depression of the June cancellation made me really want to pull something off, and I’m happy with this September date. The new Davezine is very good, I feel like having it shelved for a few months has allowed me to appreciate the writing, making me less self-critical. I feel like I have a lot to say this week but hopefully I will have plenty left on Saturday to do a really awesome show.
www.daveygandthekeyboard.com

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Conflicts

I had mixed feelings watching the O’s game on TV last night--they were playing the Angels, the team I put money on to win the World Series this year, who were 7 games back of Oakland--a win would have brought them up a game, as Oakland had lost earlier. While it feels sick to root against my hometown team (okay, adopted hometown) they are totally out of the race, so really, a win does nothing for them. But the Angels still have a shot, and I still have live bet on them. But their chances have gotten more and more slim because for every game they win, it seems like Oakland wins 2. So I have a real interest in seeing them make up some ground and get into the playoffs, but of course, that puts me at odds with my team. So while I didn’t cheer for the Angels, I wasn’t too upset when they won by a final score of 1-0.
I have a new, modest bet on the Bengals to win the AFC. The Bengals are, of course, in the same division as the Ravens. I see another conflict of interest on the way.