No solution/ Music fest/Will Oldham

When there is no immediate solution to a problem, odds are I (we - Anthony and I) continue to slave away at the brick wall towering overhead with clenched jaws, determination, and a genuine vibrant mind full of ideas. We try to imagine that there is always some logical solution to a problem... even if we don't understand it completely (or have the apparent programming knowledge in which to bypass a certain problematic element of DVD structure). Still, we slave on... day after day... night after night. We make phonecalls, e-mail friends and colleagues, and post little love notes on the Adobe forums that beg and plead for help. Somewhere around Friday afternoon, Anthony and I both decided to give up trying until Monday. With all of this stress and frustration that cannot be pointed toward a physical element (in which to smash into little pieces, in my case) we respectively decided to give it a rest for two days... rest the brain... slip away from the doldrums of work and the work week... and well... just drink.
So, Friday night Christine and I went down to the muddy-trampled riverside with the rest of the beer-soaked cretins. I have to say that I've had my fair share of inebriated reverie while listening to the not-so-satisfying live sounds of a Memphis in May hand picked band. Well, turning a few years older and not entering the park until after 10pm is quite a different sight to behold. The curbs were littered with drooling half-awake drunkards... full from a day of heat, rain, and a steady regimen of pot and beer. Kids, rednecks, adults... small children... it was quite sobering for a person that had a few gin and tonics at a high class eatery earlier in the evening. I wasn't fall-over-and-puke drunk... but I knew that I couldn't handle a high quantity slosh like the dirty little garden gnomes spread out across the pavement anymore.
We marched past the display of broken humans and approached the stage where BB King would play. His band opened, he stumbled out on stage, played a little guitar, never sang and played at the same time, told some jokes about viagara, and we left about four or five songs into the set. Christine just wanted to see him. He's 80, he's a legend... so is James Brown... so is Jimi Hendrix. Do you know why Hendrix sells more albums than both of them? Because we never got to see Jimi grow old. He's stuck in time, youthful, vibrant, and eternal. He will never fall or fail because we never got to see him continue on. BB and James made fantastic songs and albums as well. But now... it's just kind of a novelty. Hey, I saw Iggy Pop a few years ago. He's still got it. David Bowie too. The Rolling Stones don't have it... Paul McCartney doesn't have it anymore. Some people can still kick it out with age. Anyway...
Saturday night we returned for Cake's show. It was a long ass walk from one end of the park to the other. My thighs hurt. Christine can speed walk something fierce. We arrived just as they were taking the stage. They started with "Frank Sinatra" and after about 45 seconds and three loud-squealed feedback punches later, the vocalist stopped the song approached the mic and said, "Thank you for coming out, we love all of you, we'll be back in five minutes when they figure out what the fuck is wrong with the sound system." And yes, they left the stage... to a fair amount of "boos"... but they did return and play a massively sloppy set. The only humorous part of the show was when the singer started to heckle the crowd saying, "This next one is from our first album... but you don't know what albums are anymore do you? No, you just steal songs from the internet." The crowd responded with a resounding cheer. He continued, "Well I think all music should be free. That's right. It should all be free. I'm also of the opinion that all sandwiches should be free." The crowd laughed. "I will gladly trade you a song for a sandwich." about a minute later someone threw a sandwich on stage. I guess you have to be careful what you ask for.
On Tuesday evening I was working nights at the station and my old roommate James Satcher decided to remind me that Bonnie "Prince" Billy (Will Oldham) was playing that night at the Young Avenue Deli. I made sure to go. Matt Sweeney would be taking the stage with him that night as well. After paying 12 bucks to get in the door and another $5.50 for two Miller Highlifes, I found a place in the room and waited for the show to start. I have to say, as the show went on I was further and further impressed with the material. After the show ended, the band packed up their own gear and mingled with those that decided to stick around the bar. I approached Matt Sweeney and thanked him for an inspiring show, asked him what happened to Zwan, and bought him a beer. We talked about movies, music, and what places he should check out tomorrow since tonight was the end of their long tour.
We headed out to Alex's tavern proceeded to get shitfaced and I got a call from Christine somewhere around 3:30am to make sure that I wasn't dead. She was kind of pissed. I said my goodbyes, told Will Oldham that my friend Daniel (who is living in Jena) was jealous and would have loved to hang out tonight, and I went home to vomit. Yeah, I forgot to mention the Jager-shot that James made me drink after having 6 beers previous.
I've continued to work nights, have had a hell of a busy schedule and still don't have an answer to the wonderful DVD issue. We'll see what happens next week. I'm supposed to film with Arnold Edwards this weekend. I'm also on call. Let the games begin.
-B