Now I’m in Chris’s punk rock house in Olympia, the one where the main dance party Saturday night took place…the one the cops came by and shone a spotlight three times on all the sweaty dancers afterhours, Tobi Vail dressed in disguise (as Tobi Vail) the one with Dexys and Saints and girl group sounds.
I’m so tired and wired and slowly becoming paranoid because of sleep deprivation: no reason, cos I recorded about a dozen songs with the Shady Ladies at Al’s a couple of hours ago, Eric on vaccuum cleaner, the Yao sisters on screams and chants of “Ms True” and “We don’t even care”, and percussion, five great versions of ‘Primary Music/Primary Emotion’ recorded and of course the new Olympia smash hit, ‘ Mystery 45′ (the chant coming from the party at Tobi’s last night, along with screams of ‘hate sex - I’m so over that’ and ‘we’re gonna jump your bones’). I just hope that the already renowned ‘water bongos’ happen tomorrow as mooted, and that rides to the airport don’t take precedence. Perhaps I should quit drinking so much of Al Larsen’s coffee already, but you kinda have to.
The weather veers from full-on rain storms (wherein we ate our burritos) to glorious sun: the main change in this city isn’t relative affluence, quite the opposite. Way more homeless people crowded into the doorways of the State Capital Theatre etc downtown, and way more cars for no reason.
Last night was another riot of drinking and dancing, one boy racing up and down the side of walls on 4th, Maggie Vail leading the entire crowd at the Brotherhood onto their feet, and refusing to quit bopping. Asses were waggled and tail-feathers shaken. Then it was over to the gay bar for a quick last order’s, before Tobi’s battery-powered toy record player took over and we played our mighty ‘Mystery 45′ game. I’d hold a record up, dim in the light, and go, “Maggie! What’s this I’m holding in my hand?!” And then the room would explode into a frenzy of chanting and percussion, until it was deemed sufficiently excited for Chris to flip the record on - Rachel Sweet, Black Flag (which turned the room immediately male), Patrik Fitzgerald, Judy Nylon, Bangs. Yeah, it was the Bangs final show, too - headlining at the Yeah! fest, and much embraces were shared and floors pounded, as they continued to refuse to let go. Earlier, we’d suggested Bangs karaoke (Maggie sings all Sarah’s songs and vice versa) but that didn’t happen.
Caught one song by Al Larsen, wherein he looped a guitar pattern and told a sweet story, missed all the rest (and Die Monitr Bats) due to an impressively awesome Calvin Johnson live set, one song lasting 20 minutes and his new camp demeanour only cracking momentarily when he asked me to name the opening line to ‘Train To Kansas City’. I couldn’t. He sung it a cappella anyway, and amazing. Humour AND irony so straight it ceases to be such.
Another favourite: the impassioned, chaotic, wired and loveable screaming of The Shady Ladies - hey dude, I have the tape, you don’t - and being asked if I knew Stephen Drennan. Although it’s got to be said, hanging with the Ladies is perhaps more insane good fun entertainment then such soirees should be. Another favourite: Tobi’s Spider And The Webs, which was like the bluesy garage blast of 13th Floor Elevators mixed in with (very) old school Olympia mixed in with the cute magic of Melody Dog mixed in with the purest indie rock I have witnessed since…hmmm…The Legend! Yeah! Now I begin to understand why purists call The Go Team (Calvin and Tobi’s old band) the finest Olympian band ever. (Look. I sang with them. I never saw them play live. So how would I have known before?)
That’s enough. Time to socialise. Or perhaps sleep.
Both would be nice.