Last night, on a whim, decided to abandon the hypnotizing computer screen for more interesting climes. Randomly saw on ArtNews a thread regarding the Kirkwood Ballers' Club, an event (like many many many) I'd always SAID I would attend but never manage to.
Not this time, by gad!
Drove down to
Eyedrum. Got there at 11pm and saw all of 7 people. "Is this over?" I ask one of the fellow I run into "It's just begun..." ok, I can dig it. Small audience. Cozy. Nice.
Promptly I run into our old buddy
Tom, who's ready to do some of his numbers. Since I'd sang along with him at one of his Christmas parties, he invited me up on stage with them, where I let loose a number of shrieks and verses, the whole time trying - and failing - to read the lyrics sheet in front of me. No matter, this is improv!!!
The other numbers were just ear-shattering, trip-inducing melanges of sound, sensation, vibration. I was able to completely disconnect from what I am and what I am doing and where I'm going and where I've been just by riding that 30-minute synth & kitchen pot & african drum airplane - my consciousness exploded into endless scintillae of sound, such as aerosolized U-238 ordnance sparks liberated from their shells. In other words, it was hell of cool...
I don't know if the meagre attendance speaks to the decadence of this activity, which promises to happen once a month at Eyedrum, but I dearly hope not... Go! Go forth, people. It's well worth it.
Next time I go I may take my violin.
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