You can put curlers in your hair, but they'll want to bring their brooms

According to noted clown Phillipe Gaulier, Bouffon is an art form which originated with the 'Ugly People' of France. Gaulier was referring specifically to Ugly French People circa the Renaissance, but try as they might, the French still breed ugly now and then. Anyway, Gaulier noted that the excessively ugly--lepers and the like--were expected to remain unseen except when the class system dictated they entertain the upper 1%. You know, festival season. Bring out the gimps!

Says Gaulier:

The ideal performance for a bouffon would be one where the audience is wildly entertained, and then go home, realize their lives are meaningless, and commit suicide. This of course is a theoretical ideal instead of an anticipated outcome.

I bring all of this up to tell you that The End Times is playing The Comet this Thursday.


Once we finish, I’ll rush to Hollow Earth Radio for a sweet two hours of Blues & Bluster. This week: Nilsson and Seger Liberation Army, Linda Rondstat and Tori Amos, among others.

And if that wasn’t enough, Friday brings not one, but three shows you should really consider checking out:

1. Our wonderful singer Abi is playing at the Kiss Cafe in Ballard;
   
   
   
2. Our friends Pillow Army are holding down the High Dive;
   
   
   
3. and Honk Fest West presents Titanium Sporkestra, The Fremont Phil, The Yellow Hat Band, The Northwest Choro Collective, and Tits & Brass as part of a benefit gig at Lo-Fi.
   
   
   

Saturday should be spent contemplating the end of yet another month, something I'll accomplish by finally recording my cover of They Might Be Giants' seminal tune We Want a Rock on that cute ukulele my brother gave me for Christmas. After which, as I expect many in the vicinity to garrote themselves mirthlessly, it feels a little cruel to bring up March.

In other words

There’s a couple of things in the hopper today, items I will illuminate with bright words and active verbs to better capture the nearly unfathomable scale of their awesomeness, and then fed, as all things placed into a hopper are, into that thresher we keep out back. Watch your hair and mind your hands.

The End Times has, through backchannel deals, been selected as tonight’s King of the Mountain, KMTT’s focus spot on local music. Proof. Which means, at 9:20pm tonight, we’ll officially be co-opted by the man, held tenderly by him, and then dropped on a corner in our neighborhood, our clothes askew and a Djarum shoved halfway between our lips. You gotta light?

Back at my flat, I’ll collect some vinyl and hoof it down the street to Hollow Earth Radio, where I’ll bring you Blues & Bluster from 11pm – 1am. There’ll be a lot of horns tonight, a few covers, and several gems from upcoming Seattle shows, mixed with whatever requests you or others bother me with. My friend Yas will be joining me, so I must assume he’ll provide some direction as well. We’re men, we’ll figure it out.

Something is probably happening on Friday, but I’ll be buggered if I know what.

Saturday, though, sees me in Olympia, where The End Times will infiltrate Le Voyeur with a sassy ploy stolen straight from a 50s screwball comedy: we got booked. Last year, Le Voyeur treated (u(s)o) nicely that we had to do it again. If you’re in the area, and reading this, you belong to an unlikely populace and should join us.

Summer gave me Fragile Things, a collection of Neil Gaiman’s short stories, a week or so ago, and I read to the end: woody, opaque, with a bittersweet finish. Gaiman’s one of those names I know, but never read anything by, which I realize now was a mistake. Like any good book, I’m loathe to let it go, but now I have 20 years of his output to work my way through. Right after I finish the shelves of sheafs of manuscripts and letters in my possession and still now unread.

Right after.

TONIGHT

With friends Hurricane Chaser and Justin Roeser. With enemies too, if you're looking.

@Mars Bar
9 p.m. $6.

Definitions: Need a Napkin

Need a Napkin (V. phrase):

1) To realize you need something just before it is brought to you.
2) To give off the air of an unspeakable request.

Here ya are, you looked like you needed a napkin. Those ribs are messy. Can I get you anything else?

Hey there, baby. You need a napkin? You're drooling. Come on in the backroom. Sugah knows what you want.

Blues & Bluster

Up in Everett, in a modified doublewide curiously placed downtown, was the last time I was on the radio proper. The format was poor, but inoffensive: local artists mixed with world music, with heavy doses of BBC canned programming. It was run by a sweaty mess of a person I didn't care for much and his underling, who I liked only by comparison.

But I loved it all the same, being sequestered in a closet, surrounded by antiquated equipment, pushing buttons and talking to no one. Missle defense with music.

It's been nearly four years since that gig, so I'm inordinately excited for tonight.

The best of the Sound, older and ill-remembered performers, and readings from poets of all stripes, tied together with the straight truth and good-natured fibbing. Revering the familiar and rescuing the rest, it's Blues&Bluster.

Is it necessary to say I host? I do. Tonight we're gonna get into some XTC, Touabab Krewe, new Antony and the Johnsons, and The Stooges, among many others.

Live from 11pm - 1am on Hollow Earth Radio

The end of the month

The Decemberists played last month; another fantastic show by them, opened by Loch Lomond. El squared will never be, contrary to some hype, the next big thing out of Portland. In their current incarnation, they are too mannered and quiet. I say this recognizing how close it is to the faint praise heaped on Colin Meloy, back when he was a meloncholy unknown. And look what he's become:



Just a big ball of ham with an orphan's voice. What I find most fascinating about Mr.Meloy is the way he's evolved his onstage persona, toying with the fine line between hilarious pomp and bastardry. And, you know, if the songs weren't so good, he wouldn't be able to get away with as much as he does; a fact I'm sure he's aware of.

Anyway, halfway through the show, some kid yells Colin, can I ask you a question? That question turns out to be: will you videotape yourselves for me, since security won't allow me to do it? This is the answer:



Aw. Adorable. And look at those hamhock chops!

Singer, Song, Shows

On the first day of this year, walking off the drunk and towards the truck I'd convienently parked at an elementary school, I found a note tucked beneath my windshield wiper. It read: "Fuck 2007. 2008 is going to be awesome! xo, Louise"

(Louise, it should be noted, is currently staging Othello at Balagan Theater. I'm a jerk and haven't made it out and probably won't be able to, but I'm sure YOU can.)

For all sorts of reasons, for me and others, 2007 was a tough year. I wanted 2008 to be better. Needed it to be. You could argue the reason Louise's note turned out so prophetic is because I fought to make it so; I prefer to believe that Louise has magical powers--strange, mystical forces she cannot necessarily control, only summon. Either way, I know better than to touch her magic wand.

Whatever the reason, though, things got good this year: steady and successful employment, rewarding friend and relation ships (with reinforced timber hulls and everything), more writing, better health (and related choices), crates upon crates of music, and the re-emergence of The End Times.

On the 18th of this month, at local fave The Blue Moon, we'll play live for the first time since March, and for the first time ever with our new singer Abigail.



After that, you can catch us at the Skylark Cafe on December 23rd at 9p.m., and at Tacoma's Java Jive on January 30th. We'll also be hopping back into the studio to record some new tracks (some of which you can already hear on our MySpace).

Not only that, but our EP These Are The End Times is up for consideration on KEXP's Top 90.3 of 2008. If you like our style, you can vote for us (and nine others; may I suggest Hey Marseilles and The Moondoggies?) by clicking here.

Of course, for all the triumph, I was sailing in the eye. Many others had the dubious pleasure of testing their resolve, health, and security under unfavorable conditions. I'm proud and relieved to report many made it. And for those who are still in the midst of a tough year, I'll tell you this: Fuck 2008. 2009 is gonna be awesome!

xot