Peck

Right?

On the horizon:

Tomorrow night, The Crymuscles are kicking off a run of six weekly shows at the Wild Fox (225 Alameda del Prado, Novato 94949)

Here are the dates:
Thursday, 10/15, 7-10pm
Friday, 10/23, 8-11pm
Thursday, 10/29, 7-10pm
Friday, 11/6, 8-11pm
Thursday, 11/12, 7-10pm
Friday, 11/20, 8-11pm

The ‘Muscles will be bringing it to you lonnnng and funky. We’ve got a bunch of new music (ain’t none of you heard these songs yet), and we’ll be featuring several special guests along the way.

Likely cameos by: James Harmon– (the coldest guitarist in Marin, I say…) Andrea Blunt– (a gifted multi-instrumentalist I met recently while playing with Mc Lars) Annnnd Paulo Presotto– who is not a guest artist, he’s a Crymuscle! and a genius too, bringing his Braziliality and his man-witch mojo.

We, the Crymuscles, are super grateful to have a regular gig, where we can play longer sets and take some risks. Please come out tomorrow night, and celebrate the opening night of our northern sojourn! The Wild Fox serves beautiful food, including some really satisfying vegetarian food, I can attest. Or if you are into steaks and cigars, they’ve got a handle on those too.
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I understand there is more to life than mirth. But even in the darkest moments of Shakespeare’s darkest plays, some wise fool is waiting in the wings, ready to start the fires of mischief.

Yeah. We just spent 10 days in Brooklyn, with a crew of dancers, guerilla film types and musicians moonlighting as male dancers. The object was to make a video for my song “Underwear” (listen while you read, plzz).

It is my first proper music video, and a collaboration with director Naftali Beane Rutter, who pulled together the 25 beautiful people who had a hand in the production . I’ve known Naf since high school, but when his brain is flashing with ideas, you can’t be sure how well you know him yet. He’s the dude with the grey leather on:

To start them fires of mischief, we (everybody) met at 6am for a few days at Naf’s pad, where we’d also rehearsed. The main day of the shoot was mad frio, but Greg Scott and a few people said it reminded them of summer camp. Greg is a killin’ R&B singer and writer out here in the Bay Area, who sang all those crazy male ad-libs and co-produced on “Underwear”. He came out to NYC and made a cameo appearance, dancin’ and singin’. Here he is, leading the booty train in a Christmas carol (he takes it there a lot): (sorry for the small pic)

The song’s 3 minutes & 51 seconds long, but the video’s got a long intro with no music (peace to MJ). The song actually begins right when Ella Kay slaps me. (an action that we rehearsed extensively, and shot for a total of 9 takes. Slap # 3 hurt the best) Ella is a dancer out there in NYC, who plays NINA, Peck the Town Crier’s love interest

A lot of the video is about dancing, with blazing lady dancers torching their medusa powers unto a gaggle of hapless brosefs.

Eventually, when they heed the Crier’s sage rhymes, the dudes get in line and march.

As is the case with all Naftali’s stories, though, the video ends up being about everything: wizards, tutus, and the blue sky included. These photos are just a first taste, I’ll be posting more as I find’m. To any of the dancers and crew who are reading, I love you.

HOUSEGUESTS

Three fellows from my past and future are staying at my house this weekend. They’ve just biked ‘cross the country, and taken a dip in the waters of Burning Man. Here they are, getting rural:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eVhq6nkn0i

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CRYMUSCLES RESIDING AT WILD FOX OCTOBER 15-NOVEMBER 20

Continuing my immersion in the mean streets and backrooms of my old home cradle, my band is gonna play weekly gigs at the Wild Fox in Novato. Last week, we played a friday night with special guest James Harmon, a 19 year old guitar phenom in this town. I met this cat first at the open session in Finnegan’s Pub. Dude is a monster, a monnnster. We’ll be featuring him again, I hope, in our Wild Fox run next month. (he’s left, here, with another monster: Chris Detrick, who plays keys in the ‘Muscles.)

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CRYING MUSIC

Peck’s gone business. Here’s my newly founded record label/publishing co:

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fall is here. did you hear that thunder last night?
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soon, i’m riding a magic carpet to nyc, where i’ll dance.

Feel me on that? I know the equinox isn’t till the 21st, but I still think like a school kid. I teach too, and live in the burbs, so there’s a visible change on the streets, now that the little buggers are back at their desks. Maybe that’s got something to do with it. But it’s deeper, too. There’s action in the air, occasional nights down in the 30’s. It’s getting dark earlier, and the light’s getting pale and golden, depending on the time of day. Thankya, Jeezus! I always suffer in the summer. Fall is where it’s at; the snake likes the fall.
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WENT CREEPIN’ MONDAY

A couple good friends were playing Monday night. I took the excuse to get the hell out of Marin, picked up my bro Joe in the Presidio, and started with CON BRIO at El Rio. (woah.) They were playin’ hard, to packed room of sweaty, fascinated people. It was cool to hear them play a couple decibels louder than the last time I heard them in the Lil’ Art Shack on Linden Lane. It’s unmistakable when a band is in love with each other, and glad to be playing. They’ve got that energy, fo sho. Just look at them:

Then me n’ bro Joe went to the Elbo, (woah), and caught ZIRIGUIDUM ORKESTRA, the newest brainchild of Paulo Presotto. (Some of you already know Paulo, because he brings his witchy thing to the Crymuscles both live and on “Le Chronique”) He’s vibing with some of the cats from Brax, (his last band), and some new killers, making a more aggressive vibe, with more sonic experimentation and extended playing. There’s also an element of theater going on that I was really feeling. They opened the set with chimes, atmosphere, and Livia (P’s lady) playing the didge. I love a good entrance. And also on a macro level, since this was their first gig, they’ve made a bangin’ entrance as a band.

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LIKE A SHARK!
Remember a few entries ago, I told you a surprise would come from the proceeds of my Fresno trip? Well, here’s one that will make my body and the world more musical:

Yeah, yo. A Schwinn. I got this 1980 (the year I began crying in public) Super Sport and a trailer for a song, at the Recyclery in San Rafael. Compared to my time on the heavy old Peugot I was riding before, I feel like a shark on this thing!

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UPCOMING VIDEO FOR “UNDERWEAR”
Lastly, in late September, I am going to NYC to work with director Naftali Rutter on my first proper music video. Have you heard “Underwear”? The shoot will involve a whole lotta dancers, in a park in Brooklyn, perhaps a couple cameos too. That’s all I’ma say for now.

DEED DONE
Last Tuesday, I drove out to Fresno, to sell my George Benson guitar. I quite liked it. There’s a lot of adorned deadspace, signs of boredom well spent.

The dude who bought the guitar was sweet. He was telling me about a rockabilly legend who lives down the road in the trailer park, whose name is Sandy Koker:

Dude was pretty disappointed that my guitar was so worn. In the pictures, it looked more minty fresh. He had all these shining perfect guitars, I saw what he meant. His energy was reluctant.

But my gramps was a car-salesman, then a travel agent & I caught the gab gene, the folksy one. So I remembered that Brian Kenney Fresno has a song about a taco place in Fresno, called Bobby Salazar’s. So I told the dude I’d go get some lunch, give him time to think. “Do you know where I can find this place, Bobby Salazar’s ?” He lit right up and gave me a long string of directions, which I followed to this place:

Not that hip afterall, or particular to Fresno. Maybe BKFresno’s song was less of an homage than I thought.

Got back, and stood in the crossroads, thought about how little I’d be willing to take, and whether I’d mind driving back to the bay with the Benson still in my possession.

Whatever will be, will be. I am in a time of tectonic shift, and I’m unclear what it’s all gonna look like. So, because I’m the world’s child, dude bought the axe. It felt like a great release of energy. Here he is, on his back patio, strummin it.
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Played 3 shows in the past week:

-On Saturday, Samapalooza turned out to be one of the funnest shows I’ve ever played. I did a solo vibe, rapping with my i-pod. I ain’t lying: There were screaming, dancing girls all over the place. Old man still got it, yo. Here’s what the grounds looked like:

Beautiful event, props to Andrew Keating, Sam Belletto, Meredith Alessandri and the rest who threw the fest. I’ll have some video of it soon, I hope.

-On Thursday, the Crymuscles played a big lodge-y joint in Novato, called the Wild Fox. We played for 2 hours, which gave us a chance to really stretch out on some music. The line-up: Chris Dietrich, Jon Rogers, Brian Wilkerson, and me.

-On Friday, the next night, the same Crymuscles line-up took it city-side, at the Art Shack, on Linden. We shared a bill with a really killin, soulfull band: Con Brio.  We need to play with them again, fo sho. Very much a sister band to the Muslces.
The Art Shack is another stunning space…I’ll have some footage of this show soon as well.
Peace peeps,
Peck

STILL A ZEALOT
At one point in my life, there was only one fish in the sea for me.  Between 1992 and 1997, I saw Phish play 6 times.  (good lookin’ out, ma.)

So, with a crew of friends who’d also been zealots at one point,  we made a pilgrimage to Shoreline this past week.   So many things, including the older music, were so nostalgic about the show. The average audience age: probably 29-39.

But the important thing is that they KILLLLED IT.  I am so happy to’ve seen them in such good form. The two sets amounted to about 3 hours of playing, I’d wager, and their playing was crisp, and the improvisations were fresh and conversational.  There’s some new levels of dissonance going on, that sound less like a gag, and more sleek.

They’re also back to writing long, through-composed, tension and release kind of music too, within which they’ve created their own genre.  The vocal harmonies were beautiful and nuanced, and the setlist very varied in vibe, very.

Their next record is gonna be called Joy.  Maybe they’re happy to be playing together again…
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GOIN’ TO FRESNO
A fateful day awaits.  I’m driving to Fresno next week to sell my favorite guitar.  It’s fetching a respectable price, and has appreciated a lot over the years.  I’ve done a lot of mythologizing about this guitar over the years, at one point likening it to “the sword that cut the ring from Sauron’s hand.”
Here it is:

Rest, little axe.  A new journey is ahead.  The most important lesson for me: I am a guitarist, not a guitar collector.  I’m not selling my guitar playing, but one guitar.
Where will the dough will go?  It’s a SNAKE-related surprise.
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PUBLIC PALACE
Last week, I hung at the Marin Civic Center.  (to be auditioned for a part in an upcoming reality called “jury duty”)
I love that place.  I’m so grateful that Frank came to Marin and gave us a Utopian Moonbase.

Frank Lloyd Wright had lofty ideas.  I like when they create public buildings with artistry, craft and symbolism.  In a competitive world, most new buildings are purely efficient,,, such vibe-killers.  Not the Civic Center, thanks Frank, and whoever passed the project back in the fifties.
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WEEKLY COLONICS
Been getting’ weekly colonics from an old Russian lady, named Roza.  This blog will become increasingly focused on my weekly colonics…
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OFF TO SAMAPALOOZA
Alright, I am bouncing across town, to catch Novato’s equivalent of the bonaroo fest: SAMAPALOOZA.  There’s 11 bands playing, including a solo set from me.
Here’s the bill:

Address is 575 Atherton Ave, Novato Ca, 94945, cover is optional, $10 suggested donation

If you’re in range and feeling spontaneous, come!  The fest started at noon, and won’t end till’ 10pm.
Peace, sweet wags, I’m already missing the first band!

Last Friday Night, I went to the album release show of Sonya Cotton and company at the Noe Valley Ministry. The record is called “Red River”. A paean to gentleness in our rough world, this album has been a tonic for me all week.
Here is a link to their performance on “Chasing the Moon”, Scott McDowell’s video podcast from his studio: http://www.vimeo.com/5498806
The album is very faithful to their live vibe; I hear much of the recording was done en vivo, as the musicians sat in a circle.

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I’ve been feeling anachronistic this summer, even a little sentimental, buying new CD’s compulsively. My favorite shops for these healthy/un-healthy expenditures:

Bedrock Records, San Rafael
Red Devil Records, San Rafael

The hip thing about Bedrock is the staff. Neal, the manager down there, is zealously committed to getting new releases into the shelves, all kinds of wonderful music. The summer’s greatest successes there: The Dirty Projector’s Bitte Orca , Repo by the Black Dice, and Guitar Solos by Fred Frith.

Red Devil is also on 4th street in San Rafael, and specializes in cult classics, I’d say. Barry, the owner, is like a choosy curator, never settling for anything but the definitive records of each movement. For such a small shop, there’s a killin’ selection, mainly because Barry is pretty fierce about trimming the fat from his shelves. Some re-releases I’ve scored at Red Devil this summer: The Boredoms’ Super Roots 5, Richard Hell the Blank Generation, the Abyssinians Satta Massagana. Look at this album cover: (not everyone can vibe like this)
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My band, the Crymuscles, continues to stage-test our latest record. (the album is free for download, in case you haven’t heard it yet, visit http://www.lechronique.net)

It’s been cool playing a lot of local shows. Nice to get out of the bars and clubs this summer and play outdoors, for free, for all kinds/ages of people. The less officially sanctioned, the better the vibe in general. Here’s the Muscles, Cryin’ at a Bedrock Records parking lot show:

I’ll be playing a solo show this Saturday at Samapalooza, an outdoor festival on an olive grove out in Black Point, the prettiest part of Novato. I’ll be hitting at 5:15, in Town Crier regalia. But there’s 11 bands in all, playing continuously from Noon till 10 pm.
Samapalooza, 575 Atherton Ave, Novato, Ca 94945, all ages, $10 suggested donation
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Lastly, in an act of almost pure sentimentality, I bought a ticket to see Phish at Shoreline tonight. This band changed my life, especially between the age of 12-15. I’m stoked to see that they are healthy and sustainable, dropping Joy, their 11th studio album in September. As I get older, I begin to understand what a feat this is…

My name is Peck. I live in Novato, Ca.

I am in Peet’s Coffee, the best coffee house Novato’s got. Everyone is happy and graceful, and there is always Mozart, or an imitator of Mozart, coming over the speakers. A lot of twenty-somethings like to kick it here, as well as many fringe-dwellers who are at a later station in life. I’m down with them all.

There’s a fellow named Mike , who works at the Goodwill donation trailer across the street. He tests the humor of his supplicants and listens to mix tapes all day. He plays like Mississippi John Hurt on his Harmony guitar, and has homemade tattoos. One of them, on his hand, says “Dream of Freedom”.

There’s another fellow named Brandon, who’s 25, a little younger than me. He’s sitting outside right now, reading “Another Roadside Attraction.” He makes silk-screen shirts, studies graphic design at ex’pression college in Emeryville. He knows everybody, because he’s truly pleasant. It’s a gift he possesses, and gives freely of.

Mike possesses Mississippi. Without meaning to, he lives like the blues singers. I possess a copy of Moby Dick, checked out from the Novato Public Library, across a parking lot and a creek from here.

Another guy, whose name I don’t know, was part of a cult band in the 70’s. They were called the Flamin’ Groovies. He’s hip and compact. I went down to Red Devil Records in San Rafael, and bought a Groovies album. On the front cover, in a group picture, with much longer hair, was the guy.

He’s right next to me right now, balancing on one foot, looking into the communal newspaper basket. I bring my own newspaper, because I don’t like to be without my options. If I want to switch from the front page to the horoscope, by God I will. But that’s my type. The other type, the basket type, seem to think that my paper probably came from the basket too. So they sit next to me, and wordlessly rifle through my stack.
Across the street, there’s a yoga studio. Occasionally, a yogi comes through here in yoga clothes. This could mean a lot of things, but the common thread is the pants, that show the exact shape of their buns. Whether this is a product of function or fashion, I care not.

Across the back wall of Peet’s, there’s a church pew. Right now, that’s where I am, writing the first piece of THE SNAKE. Welcome to THE SNAKE.