Asylum Party >> I can only hear the sound of my own shade

Asylum Party - "Play Alone"

(Lively Art [France], 1989)

Asylum Party formed in 1985 in Courbevoie, France, and lasted only about 5 years, which is about the maximum that any good post-punk band should last.  They were part of what is allegedly called the "Touching Pop" movement in France ca. '89-91.  I didn't find out about them until a few years ago, and by golly if I didn't have to wonder why they are not superstars of the post-punk scene.  In this song, and in many others, they knew how to use an athletic bassline to guide a song melodically, giving it a visceral feel in the midst of the prevailing gloom.  I'm always a sucker for songs that begin with the instruments entering one at a time.  I guess I never realized that practically every country in Europe had its own post-punk scene in the '80s.  I had thought the bands over there emitted mostly nuance-deficient stuff like neanderthalic industrial metal or cheesy synthtronic pop.

This song definitely goes on a bit too long, but that Krautrockin' beat makes it a joy to listen to all the way through.  As for the lyric "I can only hear the sound of my own shade," that's how it is written at SongMeanings, but it sounds to me as though they got that last word wrong.  Maybe it's "chase"?  I've been meaning (ha... ha...) to join that site for many years now.

Back cover of LP

Tue. Sep. 18: Did some yard work.  Took this pic in my car window with a tarp inside that reflected lots of weird gleams of light.  Another thing you can see reflected on me is bags of recycling that I was bringing in to New Orleans, since recycling is no longer done where I live.

The slight paunch is probably due to my recent beer enthusiasm, which I've decided to curtail.  The curve of the window makes my arm look a bit bigger than normal, not that I'm complaining... Watched some of the season finale of So You Think You Can Dance with Em and mom.  Gave Em a big black portfolio thing to keep concert posters in, and an extra copy of J.D. Salinger's Nine Stories.  Stopped at the Mushroom while on my way over to Tipitina's to see Beach House, hoping to see Sam, but failed yet again.  Recommended Curve's Cuckoo to Michael ("They're like Bleach with a drum machine""), who immediately put it on.  Bought Godspeed You Black Emperor's Slow Riot For New Zerø Kanada EP on used CD.  I had first heard a song from it in summer of '99 on WTUL, so it was nice to finally own it on CD.  (The CD's packaging makes no mention of the band's name.)  Michael was surprised when I told him GYBE were coming to Tip's and that MONO were coming to the Spanish Moon in B.R., and said he wanted to see Beach House, but couldn't.  The Beach House show was sold-out, with a huge line to get in, even though we had tickets.  I spontaneously confessed to the doorman that I had used a fake i.d. to get into my first-ever show at Tip's, which was Helmet, a few days before my 18th birthday in '95.  Opening act Dustin Wong studiously tormented his geetar as though he he felt he was reinventing the medium, but it came off as pretty tedious.  After a ridiculous 30-min. wait, the House kicked things off with their best song, "Wild," so I was pretty happy.  Also did "Norway," "Gila," "Silver Soul," "10 Mile Stereo," "Myth," "Lazuli," and many more crepuscular hits.

A full setlist will probably be added here at some point.  They were much better than when I saw them in '08 at the Spanish Moon.  This is mainly because they simply have better songs now, and a better drummer (their drummer last time was the singer of their opening act Papercuts), and a sweet light show.  Afterwards, Em & I hung around in the suspiciously cool air of a cold front for the Beachies to stumble out to their tour bus, but they never did.  We smoked a few cigs, since I allow myself one or two per month, then went to a bar down the street, and after a little while my sister realized that it used to be Shiloh, one of her old hangouts.  She told me about how she had said a few words to Carlos D. of Interpol after their show at TwiRoPa in Feb. '05, when he DJ'd a heavily-advertised afterparty at Shiloh.  I think some other members of the band were there too; not sure why I didn't go.

Wed. 19: Cleaned my parents' gutters & rooftop.  Hit up McKeown's Books and scored some good stuff: Donald Rawley - Slow Dance On The Fault Line (Stories); Ron Rash - Chemistry (Stories); Ekkehard Jost - Free Jazz.  Bought a ticket for Godspeed You Black Emperor at Tip's next month, after grudgingly deciding that they are "the kind of band that I'd go see on a reunion tour."

Thu. 20: Went into a nearly empty little coffee shop called Sound Café, next to the Bywater NOCCA, and was impressed to find out they have a built-in bookstore called Beth's Books.  The girl working there was really sweet and thoughtful, and mentioned she was a jazz singer.  She told me her name and said I should come see her sing at her next few gigs (Tommy's Wine Bar and The Spotted Cat).  The shy African-American guy sitting in the café turned out to be her trumpeter; they do only jazz standards.  Here's the video for a song she did with someone else: "Emergency Baby".  So yeah, the old cliché about the person serving you your coffee being a musician sometimes turns out to be true, and you sometimes wonder why the person isn't a big star yet.  This particular lady could win American Idol with half her vocal cords tied behind her back.  I began debating in my mind if she was better than Sasha Masakowski, but decided their voices are too different to make for a fair comparison, even though they both sing the jazz.
I bought a very strong and flavorful iced coffee, which is what I usually buy after panicking upon realizing I don't know all the cool terminology that is needed to order complex coffee drinks.  As for books, I scored:

Yes, I don't have much of an attention span for novels, so I tend to go with collections of short stories / poems.  I got the one called Body Betrayer gratis, sitting on the freebie rack outside.  It's a collection of very edgy, sexually blunt poems that Anais Nin or Erica Jong would be proud of.  Not sure why they were giving it away.  My interest was piqued in the James Purdy book because The Dream Palace was a local music club; since about 2003 it's been under new ownership as The Blue Nile.  Saw a building that was possibly destroyed by Hurricane Isaac:

Good question

Then I went to Harold's Nursery and bought a little tillandsia (air plant), then to Euclid Records, where I got three good 7"s (Psychedelic Furs - "The Ghost In You"; Windy & Carl / Hopewell split; Bush Tetras - "Things That Go Boom In The Night").  Listened to an A.R. Kane 12" and an early Sad Lovers & Giants LP but didn't like them enough to buy them.  Recommended a Dif Juz EP to one of the dudes there who likes to play New Age-y, 4AD-ish stuff over the store's stereo.  Sorry for all the specificity, but music and books are not things that can just be mentioned vaguely.

Fri. 21: At night I talked to Drea on AOL for a few hours, during which we apologized for a little spat we had a few weeks ago.  Have known her online for 7 years, and didn't want to lose her friendship, so I was relieved.  I think her site is one of the few female-run Tumblrs in existence that are Ryan Gosling-free.

Sat. 22: Okay, this really strange thing happened this morning... I had put out my nasty old sofa for the trash guys to take away.  I'm playing basketball shirtless, and a girl and a boy, about age 7-10 or so, drive past on a golf cart, as kids (and adults) are often wont to do out in the country.  This sofa, well loveseat actually, probably dates back to when the house was built & furnished 35 years ago, and is hideous, saggy, brown with fucking tan and navy zig-zag stripes.  Seriously, you couldn't even dream up a lamer and more pathetic couch as a joke.  The girl asks "Can I have your sofa?"  It's a valid question, but I don't turn around to talk to her, because I don't want to be seen by neighbors talking shirtless and sweaty to some kids, and because it might take a while to explain why this sofa sucks and why their parents wouldn't even allow this thing anywhere near their house, much less inside it.  Don is painting some iron porch furniture black across the street and the smell of paint fumes is wafting over.  I kinda turn my head a few degrees in the kids' direction to show I had heard and processed the question, but I walk further away.  "Hey! Can we take your sofa?"  I still don't turn around, so they ride off.  The garbage guy crams the monstrosity into the back of the garbage truck several minutes later, rejecting my offer for help but taking the sports drinks I had laid out as thanks.  On the kids' next pass (they passed by about 10 times), I see the girl picking up and examining a shoe or something, which had apparently dropped out of the garbage truck.  ("Wow, and I thought I was an obsessive scavenger," I think to myself...)  I go inside now, having just thrown my sweaty clothes into the washing machine, wearing only boxers, about to go hop in the shower, and I hear the doorbell ring.  "Oh great, it's some candidate for a November election seat," I think, and I hope he/she hadn't peered in and seen me.  Instead I see the girl running from my door back to the street, whereupon the kids motor away nonchalantly.  Okay, a simple doorbell-ringing prank... So I take a shower and come down, and the doorbell rings again, and I see the girl running back to the golf cart again, but this time she (AND the boy) both have some sort of wedding veil on.  This is turning into something right out of Gummo now... (That's what I always say to myself whenever I see some bizarre incident going on out in the sticks: "This is like something out of Gummo.")  Believe me, you never see any kind of cross-dressing out here.  Maybe they were annoyed at me for ignoring them, or just wanted to ask why I was getting rid of something that is functional.  I guess this story is not very interesting without visuals, but it's of course a felony to film someone without permission, so you'll just have to take my word that it was a head-scratching situation.  A little while later, I saw them pull into a special golf cart garage door at a house a block away.  I started chuckling uncontrollably at the concept of a mini garage door sized specifically for a golf cart, especially since it was situated right next to the "big boy" garage door for a car, just like a doggy door next to a people door.  I think I'll put out something at the curb next week for the kids to scavenge up, so that they won't exact some violent revenge on me years from now for rudely depriving them of a sofa.  So I'm at that awkward moment when I feel pressured to put some stuff out at my curb to appease some Mad Max-esque kids, but I have to make sure it's not too cool, otherwise they'll expect more.
Later on XM radio I heard the Sonic Youth song that Drea had used as her AOL name years ago, and smiled.

Sun. 23: The Saints dropped to a stunning 0-3 with a home loss to the Chiefs, blowing a 24-8 lead.  At home.  Panic grips the state, since everyone here hoped they would go to the Super Bowl in NOLA this season.  The main problem is that the defensive scheme used by new defensive coordinator Steve Spagnuolo is giving up the most yards in the NFL.  And Darren "Sproles Royce" Sproles, who set the NFL's single-season yards record last year (yes, he amassed more total yards last year than any player in history had ever amassed in one year, and even got his own exhibit at the Hall Of Fame in Canton to commemorate it), has been MIA.
Repotted a cactus and planted a Butia palm I had plucked up as a tiny seedling 4 years ago at the north border of Esplanade Mall in Kenner.

Music video of the year so far: Strip Steve feat. Puro Instinct - "Astral Projection"

Latest obsession: The band 2:54, particularly their song "You're Early"

Planets with similar climates: Bleach - "Seeing" (1991), The Chameleons - "Second Skin" (1983), For Against - "Autocrat" (1985), Bailter Space - "Now I Will Live" (1987), Kitchens Of Distinction - "Hypnagogic" (1990), U2 - "The Unforgettable Fire" (1984).