My foot is resting on the edge of my keyboard stand. It's not meant to be used as a foot-rest, but there's nothing else. You know how it is when you're sitting in a chair and you've just got to put your feet up on something, otherwise it's not comfortable? It's like that on the trains sometimes, but they don't allow you to put your feet up on the trains – they have a rule against it. My other foot is resting on a sort of table, and there's a towel under it to make the surface more soft.
Oh, I just switched so that both feet are up on the table, one on top of the other. I think it's more comfortable that way, but I know from experience that it won't be comfortable for very long. It's too high. I read somewhere that when you're typing at a computer you should have plenty of lower-back support, otherwise you get a sore back. But this chair is not "ergonomically designed" – its back is very straight. I bought it in a garage sale seven years ago, because it was cheap.
But it doesn't matter – I won't be here long. There's no way I'm going to finish this journal entry tonight. And why am I talking about my sitting-position, when I should be talking about the events of the week? Because it's been a boring week. I don't know what to say. I went to a few gigs. Tonight I went to the Prince of Wales Hotel. There was this guy there playing rock/country music, named Kelley Stoltz. He was lame. And the chairs in the Prince of Wales have no lower back support – I was sitting in this chair and I had to lean sideways against the wall in order to relax.
I was thinking about how I'd like someone to come in and wash my feet, and then kiss my toes, and brush my hair, and give me something to lean back on, and then I could close my eyes and drift away until the good music started. I've been awfully tired lately, which is surprising 'cause I get more sleep than anyone I know. But anyway, I went to the Prince of Wales to see Lisa Miller, the brilliant singer/songwriter, and when she came out she was well worth it. Lisa Miller had lots of other musicians with her. She sings sweetly and her songs are beautiful. At one point she was playing acoustic guitar and she had to stop playing for a few seconds because the strap was getting caught on the guitar-lead or something like that. But one of her friends helped her so that she could continue.
Oh, there, I've put my feet on the floor now because they were getting uncomfortable on that high table. And I've got a little pillow behind my back to give it support. I had a dream last night that I was going into this fancy hotel where all the rich business people go, and when I went into it the concierge saw that I was dressed in poor clothes so he said I would have to leave or else he'd call the police. But then I showed him a receipt that proved that I'd pre-paid for my hotel-room, and that it was the most expensive room they had. So it looked like everything would be okay, but while the staff were looking up the reservation-record on their computer, this old psycho-vagrant came up to me and started giving me all these bits of useless machine-parts that I didn't want. And then the security-guards came along and arrested us both, as if I was partly to blame. It wasn't fair. And then I woke up.
I have a few concerns about the two bands that I'm in. One of them, The Boris Pink, has this guitar player who has a new job. That's a good thing, because he's been looking for a job, but it means that our practice schedule is disrupted and we can't practise on Mondays and Fridays anymore. The other members have been saying maybe we should practice on Tuesdays or Wednesdays. But my other band, The Floyd Show, practises on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, or at least it's supposed to. So I'm afraid there may be a clash in the scheduling, while both bands say that practice is all important in the lead up to the gigs and recording-sessions that are booked in the future.
The other problem lies in the social dynamic of The Floyd Show, although I'm not sure how much of it I can publish in this journal without getting into trouble. There was a really bad vibe in the air at the end of our rehearsal yesterday, and it stemmed from an argument that two members were having about how long the outro to the final song should be. The bass-player said it should be very long, and the singer said well yes maybe at the performance we can play it longer but we can make it short in rehearsal. And the bass-player said no, it should be the same in rehearsal as it will be in performance.
Then later, when the singer was not around, several musicians were complaining that the singer has not learnt the songs enough – we can tell by the way he often makes mistakes in the timing and the lyrics. It's true that he doesn't quite know the songs, and complaining about it to him doesn't seem to have much effect. But complaining about it while he's not there seems even less productive. I've seen bands break up when too many words are said – it becomes not about the music anymore, and more about personal issues and clash of personality. But I don't care, as long as it's not my back that they're talking behind. And if the band does break up, it won't be my problem.
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I saw this band called [bilby] on Sunday night – I've only seen them once before, years ago, but they have members in common with another band that I like so it was sort of a familiar experience. They sang and played undistorted guitars in a mellow style. It's one of these bands that has low ambitions in regard to record-sales – they don't play many gigs. Sunday night's gig only had about nineteen people at it. It was cool though – the singers were in fine voice and their songs were just nice. You don't often see such a good band with such a small audience. And afterwards, one of them sent me an email saying thanks for coming.
I did some work on my painting this week – I think it's coming together well and I've finally got the girl's face perfect so I won't need to re-touch it again. I also worked on the big round light in the sky which is the sun, but it's not quite perfectly round as it's supposed to be.
That show Believe Nothing is about this guy who is part of a secret gang of powerful rich men who control the whole world. It's a moderately funny comedy. I like the way they trivialize events like wars, which they create for their own purposes, and they chat with world leaders who are made out to be really stupid and easily persuaded, and then they casually mention things like how they rigged the American election. And there are other characters who don't care about the implications of huge world events because they're so self-absorbed. Sometimes it's clever the way it makes a point about the state of modern society. Sometimes the jokes don't work, but it makes you think.
On Friday night I saw this guy at the Hifi Bar, he was a solo performer named Max Tundra. He was mostly just singing along to a backing track, and there was a bit of keyboard-playing and a tiny bit of guitar playing. It was electronic music. He was all right – the audience just loved him. I was thinking, "I could be just as popular as him, if they'd let me perform solo at the Hifi Bar. But how do you even get a gig like that if you're a solo electronics guy? When I ask them, they say no. The only reason he got a gig here is because he's friends with Architecture In Helsinki, who are playing next." And then Architecture in Helsinki came out and played their stuff, and they were fantastic like they always are.