Seeming to be plagued, invaded. By insects, by thoughts. I'm keeping my cool. I'm not freaking out, which I normally would. I wonder, did someone Hex me? Is it possible to hex yourself? If so, then I'm definitely one to do it. Not even accidentally hex myself, just subconsciously. Like, because on some level I need that pathos (In high school a friend once mentioned that, that I apparently like to feel shitty, she used the phrase "needing that pathos", I thought that was so chic). Yeah, but psychic invasion:
I remember when this video came out in 2005, I was so bummed because this is what my friends were doing in San Francisco, making cool art and stuff, while I was in college in frigid old New York. I loved Veronica Lipgloss and the Evil Eyes.
New Lauryn Hill song:
As an actor, I can tell you that Lauryn is breathing from her diaphragm. Such a crazy good song. Needlessly good. It's such a shame about Ms. Hill not being given credit or the context to properly release her work and get paid for it. I hope someday this and all of the fantastic songs you know she's just sitting on get released.
Crazy week, an easy week. I'm sad my parents are gone but I bought my plane ticket home for the holidays. I got to go to my college friend's wedding last night, it was so fantastic. I'll write more about it later but it was really a gorgeous and completely surreal feeling to be dressed up walking through central park to the reception with my college chums. Who am I, even? Trying to be super cognizant and (I'm sorry) present enough to just clue into these moments and feel grateful I get to have them. Not just fancy stuff, anything. Like right now I'm listening to my 7"s (remember that awesome band The Moves?) and drinking coffee and burning incense with the windows open and it's drizzling: this is great. Last night was great too, I'm glad I thought to realize it at the time.
The night before, Friday night, I had gone to see Miss Erin Markey perform at the Prelude after party. She was gorgeous and it was worth the trip. She made a joke about how someone had thrown her shade about performing to backing tracks. I used to get that a lot, but in a punk rock context. Like, I'd be playing in punk basements or rock clubs or something, to backing tracks of songs I made on FruityLoops or (even older) my Casio keyboard on a 4-track.
I used to perform to backing tracks that would be played from a cassette.
It was always so weird to me. People would often ask me "Yeah but who makes your music?" like, as if I had some Svengali hidden away, making these crappy out-of-sync beats somewhere. Or like, people would ask who wrote my songs for me (this is back when I performed more original songs). Like, duh: me. Or the lyrics? But I guess it's different in a punk context than a theater or cabaret context. It's weird, no one would ever ask Lauren Devine why she performs to backing tracks. But it's a different time, I'm talking about ten years ago. It would be pretty cool to see her in a full live band version though. Unplugged? I guess I always feel sort of dorky and out of step. Like I was too smarmy for the punk world, cuz I went to college and performed to backing tracks instead of playing an instrument live (before that I played both the cello and keyboard live, it's really hard!). And then in the chic world of fanciness, my songs are too crusty sounding and amateurish. Too punk or something. There is no place to fit in, I think that's good. To be honest I do sort of look for places of no escape, or places that are impossible, that don't fit in. On some level, you know, I don't want to fit in because I don't think I should have to, that anyone should have to. I am really really opposed to the idea of fitting in by being the same as someone/group of people. So I kind of subconsciously chafe at that work against it. But then it's like, I'm sabotaging myself and am always bellyaching about how no one wants me in their club. It's such a trip to be a grown-up.
Going to BAX this afternoon to sing. I ought to be, actually, writing more material for the new show. But I think it starts with singing. It starts with singing songs that I didn't write, or arrange, or record. It starts with laying down a tarp so that you can then make a mess on top of it and it'll be okay. That, to me, is the thing about performing live. It's the tarp. It's the membrane of like: "okay, we're gonna talk about how crazy it is to be a fucking human being, right?"
There are so many cute boys in New York City and there are so many cute boys in every town, and sometimes you forget that the fantasy, much superior to the circumstance in one's head, is actually the same. it's just the second-life, web 2.0, waking dream superimposed onto the fact of the world. They're here, we're all here. We've been waiting. Wake up.