Fists With Your Toes

"I Am Looking Forward to An Orderly Election, Which Will Eliminate the Need for a Violent Bloodbath."

The other week I went down to North Philadelphia and went door to door registering voters and verifying voter rolls for the big GOTV next week. Not that I'm some kind of hero or anything; I just wanted to be able to earn my ranting a tiny bit. It was a helluva an inspiring day. The urban blight was unlike anything I'd experienced first hand (on foot) but the people were extremely receptive, welcoming and motivated. A very surreal scene, with old abandoned mansions boarded up and left to rot. More photos.

One of our tasks was to ask residents if they'd decided whom they would vote for. This was usually greeted with laughter, but one elderly man with whiskey on his breath told us he was pretty sure he was going to vote for McCain and didn't trust Obama. At first we thought he was joking, but then he said he was in the Army and liked McCain's military background. Fair enough Then he admitted he hadn't decided and might end up voting for Hillary after all. Later, he told us he was a paranoid schizophrenic, which made sense.

Tight Little World and Are You on the List?

(More photos by Carina Mastrocola here.)

Not to lord it over anyone, but being in the pit ten feet from Thom Yorke during Radiohead's show at Mansfield, MA, last night was really something else. As a buddy of mine put it, sorta like flying first class. And God bless 'em for selling these primo tickets through the fan site!

Being that close, surrounded by mainly attentive obsessed fans like me (the guy behind me was a bit of a Karaoke star and the two big dudes in front of me incessant shutterbugs, but no big deal) really lets you catch all the little details that goes into their amazing show. And the stage at Great Woods is really low to the ground, giving the show a crackling immediacy. Also, Thom was totally making eye contact with me. But not in a weird way.

I had said in the van on the way up that I'd really like to hear 2+2, Karma Police, and, naturally, Talk Show Host, none of which they'd played at All Points West. One out of three (Karma Police) 'aint bad; I Might Be Wrong and Wolf at the Door, two rarities this tour, were the other songs I hadn't heard them do over the weekend.

I'm still pretty much speechless about the whole thing and, the first to admit, kind of a 12-year-old girl when it comes to Radiohead. (Someone else asked me if I threw my training bra onstage, ha ha.) On At Ease there was curiosity about whether Phil was really singing last night, and in fact he was, sans mic, on several of the songs. Along with the other four guys, he genuinely seemed to be having a total fucking blast. Very high energy show, both onstage and in the audience.

Almost bought one of those boss Sigg bottles but was running low on cash. Oh well. Also, note to anyone going to a sold out show at Great Woods: Pay the $30 to park off site. The concert ended at a little before 11 pm and we couldn't get out of the parking lot until 1 am. Got home at 5, and thanks to Alex for humping it all the way back to Brooklyn! And Jen for scoring the tickets! ZOMFG Radiohead 4ever let's all get matching tattoos!

A friend of mine recently quipped that FWYT has just become a series of links to my "corporate" blogging. In keeping with tradition, here are photos and words from Friday and Saturday at All Points West.

I Will Now Announce My Endorsement for the Next President of the United States

Remember the '90s? Hammer Time? The Internet? Our Little Conflict with Saddam and the Iraqis? Ken Starr? Sure, we all our had our dehabilitating spasms of dread now and then, but who among us in November 2000 expected the next eight years to make the Nixon administration seem quaint?

Which is to say, there's obviously no choice between McCain and... Who's that other guy? That big phony Hollywood celebrity who is clearly NOT ready to LEAD... (us deeper into HELL!!!!)�

I'd really like to see Obama and the current President of the United States wincing next to each other in some awkward photo op. Not going to happen! But I hear there will be three debates, and I still have some (perhaps misguided) faith in voters to recognize a reasonable guy when they see one. And yes, Brokaw's a tool, but Gwen Ifill's all right.

Yet... Speaking on behalf of the "activist base" of the Democratic party -- or, to paraphrase Stewart, "the people who care enough to get involved" -- President Obama is now formally on notice re this tacking right shit. Obviously I'll vote for him, but should he actually manage to win the general and persist in accommodating these corrupt lunatics on issues like offshore drilling, etc., I'll be his own worst enemy. At the very least I'll rant occasionally on my blog.

I don't care if he's the first periwinkle president. It's kind of a critical moment for humanity. Or, if not for humanity, for a growing number of people (even people like me!) who won't be able to afford little things like dignity if things keep going the way they're going.

And again, I cannot emphasize enough that I've consulted with the activist base on this and am speaking for everyone.

Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stranger.

I really, really love this still. And yes, I'm sorry I saw The Dark Knight in IMAX last night without taking each and every one of you along. I believe it was Aziz Ansari who said, "If it were physically possible, I would fuck this movie.” Because of my strict Elks Club vows, I can't go that far, but I would like to take every frame of the film containing Heath Ledger out to the gazebo. I don't know what that means. But I want to see this again, almost entirely to watch Ledger. He is (was) absolutely extraordinary in this. More content, including other film stills, on The Gothamist Dot Com.

UPDATE: In today's Times review, Manohla Dargis elegantly concurs: "No matter how cynical you feel about Hollywood, it is hard not to fall for a film that makes room for a shot of the Joker leaning out the window of a stolen police car and laughing into the wind, the city’s colored lights gleaming behind him like jewels. He’s just a clown painted on black velvet, but he’s also some kind of masterpiece."

"We're all freaks depending on the backdrop."

I saw Passing Strange for the third time since it opened on Broadway in February, and as soon as the house lights came up at the end, I immediately wanted to see it all over again. It's really that good; hilarious, tender, moving, intelligent and performed by a wickedly talented cast. The score is relentlessly excellent, the direction is flawless, and those lights... I have a hard time articulating in words how phenomenal this piece of theater is -- and an Broadway, of all places!

Anyway, it's closing on Sunday after Spike Lee films it, which is obviously the silver lining here. (He was at the performance Friday night taking notes.) You can still get $25 dollar tickets the day of the show, and pretty good seats at that; we were in the center of the orchestra section. Maybe I'll see you there!

I love you, I love you, I love you... what's my line?

A phenomenal birthday weekend, from soup to nuts -- or, in my case, cupcakes to donuts. The photo on the right was taken by yours truly during "Silver Rocket," right before Thurston used his guitar cord slingshot to fire his axe into my solar plexus. (My attorney tells me I've got a lot of that Starbucks money coming to me.) The pic on the left is courtesy youbebetty. As the image suggests, I am indeed shitting myself with joy. There was something gratifying about Thurston Moore thrashing his way through a mob of indifferent press pit slobs on the Fourth of July. My only regret is that I wasn't wearing my "I'm With Stupid <--" T-Shirt. Nevertheless, a hell of a show, and some great free advertising for FYWT!

Hast seen the white whale?

If you're ever up in western Mass on a Monday night, this is the place to be. Pittsfield -- yes Pittsfield: birthplace of Moby Dick, home of Melville, the first law against baseball, Emily Erwin of the Dixie Chicks, and a mountain of carcinogenic prophylactics left behind by General Electric. They've also got a great Friendly's there, too, as I recall. And an elite cadre of individuals who are turning an old copper what-have-you into a flashpoint for all sorts of radical activity. Maybe you read about them in Boston's paper of record? Here's the website, and the blog. Sometimes on Mondays there are movies, but always stimulating banter and other stuff the square community doesn't give a shit about.

Can you believe it's already July? Wooosh. The cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon, man. Recent activity has included Macbeth at St. Ann's, waterfalls on the East River, and an exchange with Werner Herzog and Donald Fagen, though unfortunately not at the same time. This followed by a rather businesslike Steely Dan set at the Beacon. Now it could be that time I saw them at Roseland, 15 feet from the stage, spoiled me, but I've got to say, what's up with the setlist fellas? Josie instead of Caves of Altamira? Green Earrings over Haitian Divorce? No Deacon Blues but Everything You Did? You know I can't help but sing along to lines like "Turn up the Eagles the neighbors are listening" and (my favorite) "I never knew you! You were a roller skater!" But still! It all feels a bit safe.

Of course, I had a great time, and the band they're playing with is big and rich, and it's hard to bitch too much when the evening does include such highlights as an initially unidentifiable re-arrangement of Show Biz Kids and a killer Royal Scam opener. But please, guys: FM can fucking go. Bury it where you hid Rikki Don't Lose That Number. And use that extra set time for Sign in Stranger. Thanks, The Management.

So don't get any big ideas

There are a lot of things I haven't gotten around to holding forth on: Joe Lally at the Knitting Factory. David Altmejd at Andrea Rosen. A last supper of crabcakes at Florent. Barack Obama: President of Hitting that Ass... And yet, my companion condemns me for being "addicted" to the internets. Well, that may be. But if it wasn't for my addiction, would we be enjoying this twisted remix of Radiohead's Nude, done with retro computers and other doo-dads, that really gets cooking at the 1:20 mark?

Big Ideas (don't get any) from James Houston on Vimeo.

Your witness.

"It takes a good friend to say you've got your head up your ass." (Plants and Animals, Mercury Lounge)

Well, Montreal-based Plants and Animals (myspace, website) absolutely killed last night at Mercury Lounge. I first heard them from the balcony at Warsaw waiting for Spencer Krug's side-project Wolf Parade last year - the trio immediately won me over and completely upstaged the headliner in a Bob Marley/Sly Stone kind of way. ["The Wailers were fired after 4 shows because they were more popular then they band the opened for, the crowd often chanted "Wail-ers" well into the Sly and the Family Stone set."]

I heard traces of Afrobeat (minus the horns) in some of their uptempo numbers last night, but that's probably just because I've been listening to a lot of Fela lately? They've got dramatic but not overly grandiose arrangements, great vocal harmonies, irresistible hooks, and an endearingly awkward stage presence that's so Canadian it hurts your eyes to look at them.

Phenomenal set, despite the broken strings, which left time for an absurd drum solo/one-word audience sing-along. (The word was, inexplicably, 'Poison.') They play again tonight (with Rock Plaza Central) at Union Hall. Their new album, Parc Avenue, is stellar; listen to one song.

Good_friend.mp3

Aaaand buy. Here's an interview on the BeeV.

Oh, and that top button stayed buttoned the entire set, despite a completely sweat-drenched shirt. That's commitment.

How they pass the time in Buenos Aires these days.

This is quite extraordinary.

MUTO a wall-painted animation by BLU from blu on Vimeo. Thanks again, Boing Boing.