From: owner-fegmaniax-digest@smoe.org (fegmaniax-digest) To: fegmaniax-digest@smoe.org Subject: fegmaniax-digest V9 #169 Reply-To: fegmaniax@smoe.org Sender: owner-fegmaniax-digest@smoe.org Errors-To: owner-fegmaniax-digest@smoe.org Precedence: bulk fegmaniax-digest Tuesday, June 27 2000 Volume 09 : Number 169 Today's Subjects: ----------------- Re: setlists up the cornhole all over the world ["Andrew D. Simchik" ] Re: The Portland Show ["Andrew D. Simchik" ] Happiness [Michael Wolfe ] Happiness 2: The Revenge [Michael Wolfe ] Re: Eb overalls all over [digja611@student.otago.ac.nz] Re: Eb all over the depraved Sunset Strip [MARKEEFE@aol.com] Re: Eb all over my record collection [HSatterfld@aol.com] RE: Eb overalls all over ["Brian Huddell" ] those hard to find records and cds and a lot of Robyn [twofangs@gurlmail.] Chills ["Brian Huddell" ] Re: those hard to find records and cds and a lot of Robyn [overbury@cn.ca] RE: Eb overalls all over ["Brian Huddell" ] Eb Worked At All American Burger [tclark@apple.com] ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Mon, 26 Jun 2000 17:02:14 -0700 (PDT) From: "Andrew D. Simchik" Subject: Re: setlists up the cornhole all over the world - --- The Kielbasa Kid wrote: > Uncorrected Personality Traits (Country Version) [Robyn guitar] I've never been this song's biggest fan, but...GODDAMNIT! > A Day In The Life [Grant piano] Arrrrrgh! > She Belongs To Me [Scott piano] Yeeeeeeeeeaaaaagh! All right, I guess I shouldn't complain. > --robyn only did a very few lines of Orange Claw Hammer, but they were > spot on. What is Orange Claw Hammer? Drew ===== Andrew D. Simchik, schnopia@yahoo.com __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Get Yahoo! Mail - Free email you can access from anywhere! http://mail.yahoo.com/ ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 26 Jun 2000 19:15:02 -0500 From: "Brian Huddell" Subject: Bottom Line MP3s For no special reason I've decided to make MP3s of the June 16 Bottom Line show available to all fegs what wants 'em. This is the first set, recorded to minidisk in stereo and ripped at 256kbps by some pseudonymous non-feg who posted it to a newsgroup (non-feg because he didn't know the names of most of the songs). I think the quality is good though of course there's the requisite audience chatter. Because of the high bitrate the files are pretty big (125MB for the whole show) so those of you with modem connections might think twice. 208.61.84.250 user:feg pw:maniax or click below if your mail client lets you do that: ftp://feg:maniax@208.61.84.250 If you have any problems or questions please email me directly. Cheers, Brian ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 26 Jun 2000 17:45:22 -0700 (PDT) From: "Andrew D. Simchik" Subject: Re: The Portland Show - --- John Barrington Jones wrote: > Grant & Robyn are the yin and yang of folk rock. That's an interesting take. At the GAMH show in SF all I could think of was Eric Idle's White Face/Red Nose (or Apollo/Dionysus, or mind/body, or...) dichotomy from the mostly unbearable novel _The Road to Mars_. White Face is the cerebral, reserved, dignified, endomorph comedian and Red Nose is his lowbrow, outgoing, goofy ectomorph counterpart, like Abbott and Costello or Spade and Farley. > They are the vaudevillian heroes of our time. Despite what I just said, I sincerely hope not. :) Drew ===== Andrew D. Simchik, schnopia@yahoo.com __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Get Yahoo! Mail - Free email you can access from anywhere! http://mail.yahoo.com/ ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 26 Jun 2000 21:42:25 +0000 (GMT) From: Michael Wolfe Subject: Happiness Damn, but I love I Feel Beautiful. Ok, but now that that's out of the way, there's something else that I'd like to say. The concerts on Friday and Saturday were fantastic, and the whole weekend was absolutely wonderful. Not just because Robyn and Grant are my number one and number two favorite musicians in this world and the next. Not just because the weather here in the Pacific Northwest was gorgeous (though Eddie may tell you otherwise). Both of those made ample contributions, of course. The thing that pushed the whole deal over the top, though, was the shear good-spiritedness of the occasion. Robyn and Grant are such obviously good friends up on stage, and so obviously having a blast that it would take an icy heart indeed to not have some of that rub off. And as our Vulcanized Icthyoid Carnivore friend wrote, I felt a good deal of the friendship that I saw up on stage because I was in the company of such good friends, myself. Friday night, I got a late email saying that Capuchin, Tom Clark, and Chris Franz would be meeting at Paola's next to the Aladdin at 5:15 before the show. Not wanting to miss the chance to spend a bit of time in the sun shooting the breeze, I left work promptly at 5, and hauled ass over there on my bike. One block from the theater, I realized that I didn't have my ticket with me. Crap. Well, at least there was plenty of time. I found Tom, Chris, and Jeme just sitting down at a table outside the restaurant. I greeted them, and told them about my absent- mindedness, but decided to sit down and be sociable for a while. Tom told us about taking the same plane up to Portland as Grant and Robyn (how could they not give Tom and Chris the bulkhead? What kind of crap is that?), and Jeme, ever the raconteur, told advertising agency stories. I advised Tom and Chris on Jeme-conversation management skills, on how to make sure that he closes his parentheses. The pizza came, and I drank my beer, which I claimed was "fruity," due to the lemon on the rim, and Chris replied that there was a lot of that kind of beer in his neighborhood. Viv arrived, and declared that the storefront next door was for a business of a questionable nature. The pizza rapidly turning to lead in my guts, I decided that I had probably better get my ticket while I could still throw a leg over my bike. I pushed myself, and made excellent time, getting there and back in just over 30 minutes. Arriving at the Aladdin for the second time, I joined Viv and Jeme in line, and soon gNat and Cynthia arrived. I was negotiating with Cynthia's friend, allegedly dubbed "Dan," for him to take my funds and buy me a ticket to an impending Los Lobos/Wilco show as he was standing in line for the box office, when I heard a barrage of cursing followed by a roaring engine. As I looked up, I figured it was one of those damn Milwaukie rednecks in an early model domestic pickup, but who should I spy but Captain Tews himself leaning out of Carole Reichstein's car! Sweet! The picture was nearing completion. They let us in, and we "fgz" claimed half of the front row and part of the second. On the door to the theater, there was a legal notice saying that entering constituted agreement on our part to let our likenesses be used in a motion picture called "Grant-Lee Hitchcock." Hmm! No problem here! Soon, the whole Portland contingent was accounted for. Our whole section was buzzing from old acquaintances being renewed and new friends being made. I chatted with Eddie and Jeme and JBJ, and tried to hit on JBJ's extremely cute friend (to no avail). Then the show began, and it was wonderful. JBJ did a fine job of capturing the set itself in his report, and I will add a set list and a couple other details as I can. Phillips' Willie Nelson and Casey Casem were great, but I really dug his William S. Burroughs. JBJ brought a huge traffic cone which he put on stage between the main set and the first encore, which Grant wore as a hat for a little while. Grant ended Sound + Vision with this great, sustained Pavarotti note, and then picked up Ashes to Ashes very gracefully. Then he handed off the vocal to Robyn who came in with a very droll, "Oh no, don't say it's true." The first two songs of the encore, Phillips' Happiness and Hitchcock's Flavour of Night, utterly slew me. They both perfectly encapsulate that potent mixture of sweetness and melancholy that paradoxically makes me so happy. What they evoke is not *pain*, not like breaking up or losing a loved one, but there is a sort of romantic sadness to both that is so beautiful and effective that it both makes me feel their sadness and thrills me with their beauty (in visual terms, you might get a similar feeling in viewing a beautiful landscape or painting). "Let them bring you Happiness Happiness is hard to come by, I confess I'm bad at this Happiness, if you find it, share it with the rest of us" The set list: Cynthia Mask Squint Queen Elvis Heavenly I Feel Beautiful Lonesome Serenade I Saw Nick Drake Mockingbirds Gene Hackman Don't Look Down Trams of Old London Honey Don't Think Antwoman Fuzzy (encore) Happiness Flavour of Night Sleeping Knights of Jesus Mighty Joe Moon All I Have to Do is Dream (encore 2) Changing Into Maryland (improv) Sound and Vision/Kung Fu Fighting Ashes to Ashes Satellite of Love Across the Universe We hung around the Aladdin for a while afterwards chatting, idly hoping that Robyn would put in an appearance to sign a few autographs. Michael Keefe made his way down to say hello, not having found a seat with the rest of us. When no Robyn was forthcoming, we retired to the Blue Moon for drinks and fries. Jeme threw root beer at Tom. Tom informed us of a proclivity for shoe gazing on his part. Then Jeme got started on copyright law, and was fine for a while, but then he rapidly started to pick up speed, which was clear indication that it was time to hit the hay. Eddie crashed on my futon so that the two of us could get an early start for Seattle the next day. Coming up next: Sleepy in Seattle! ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 26 Jun 2000 23:58:28 +0000 (GMT) From: Michael Wolfe Subject: Happiness 2: The Revenge So Eddie and I got up bright and early, and I managed to pack for a night over in Seattle despite a chronic nagging feeling that I was forgetting something. As it turned out, I hadn't forgotten anything important. We swung by Carole's to see if Randi was feeling well enough to come with us, but it was not to be (we had missed her dearly the night before, too.) But Carole did inform us that, after vacillating wildly the night before, gNat had finally landed on the side of joining us in Seattle. So we drove over to her place and picked her up. The conversation in the car on the trip up north was spirited, to say the least. I kicked things off by comparing Vancouver, WA to baby vomit. gNat told us about Ann Arbor and described the legendary Viva Sea-Tac dance. Eddie faithfully and reliably steered the "Tews Crewser" towards "Puget" Sound and bitched about Seattle traffic. We took turns selecting music, and gNat played us a cool mix tape. We hit bad traffic around Lacey, but as it so happened, we had been planning to exit to make a side pilgrimmage to Sleater-Kinney Road for a photo-op anyway, and when we tried to get back on the freeway, the cops told us to stay on the backroads to Nisqually, thus actually saving us perhaps an hour of sitting in a major traffic snarl (though the traffic on the backroads was pretty bad, too.) But, I must say, detours and traffic aside, that was one trip to Seattle that positively flew by, and I attribute that in large part to the quality of the company. Eddie let gNat and I off at my Grandparents, who I wanted to visit with a bit, but they weren't home, so we bagged the place and hit the U-District. After putzing around there for a while (I picked up the Olivia Tremor Control Peel Sessions -- not bad at all, but at 17 minutes of real music followed by 15 minutes of musique concrete, a little short), with gNat resisting the thrift-store temptation, and me resisting the WotC temptation, we headed to Hi-Score, the retro arcade on Capitol Hill where I was supposed to meet Jeme so that we could go to Eddie's restaurant for dinner. I knew that he would be late, however, because the nasty traffic would smack him, too. He was, as it turned out, pretty dang late. I didn't want to stray too far from the meeting place, but there was a really loud techno-dance gay pride celebration going on next door which gave me and gNat headaches. But I did manage to get in a kick-ass game of Klax, and slightly less than ass-kicking games of pinball and Tron in. And finally I saw Viv walk up. Viv was, as it turned out, slightly horrified, as she hadn't been expecting gNat as well, and the car already contained Jeme, her, Chris, and Tom. With me and gNat, that was 6 in a mid-sized sedan. But we all recalled our high-school years and clambered in, making efficient use of laps. The first order of business was to nix the trip up to Everett, as we thought that we were now under time limitations. We drove to the Croc to see about tickets, and found that they wouldn't be sold at all until the doors opened. Bleah. That left us all a bit peeved, and chained us to the area, and not at all inclined to patronize the Croc as our backup dining option. Now, so, here we are, 6 of us piled into a car, none of us residents of the city, all of us hungry, laps getting sore, tempers a little short from being stuck either in traffic or next to throbbing techno all day, looking for a restaurant. In short, a recipe for disaster. This is the kind of situation that gives Denny's a reason to exist -- desperate groups, unable to agree, settling on the lowest common denominator. But we refused to let the evening start like that. We walked a razor's edge, and we succeeded, because we are fegs. We could have ended up chasing over half of Seattle, but we cruised up Broadway, and at the very last moment, spotted a promising looking Japanese restaurant. We then started circling for a parking spot, in this most notorious of neighborhoods, and again patience was running short, when we spotted an ample place, a mere 3 blocks from our destination. And we wound up with a quite lovely sushi dinner (except for Tom, who fared well in his own right by opting for the Salmon Teriyaki.) Fantastic. But my point is, we were at our group limit a couple of times, and had our limit been any shorter either time, BAM!, Denny's. Had the crew been less than completely awesome, I would still be trying to get that awful, greasy egg aftertaste out of my mouth as I write this. So we flagged down a couple of cabs to get to the Croc, and made our entrance there in grand style, only to discover that the music wasn't going to start until 10:30. It was 8:30 at that point. Oy. Well, at least we wouldn't want for good conversation. I got started on a whiskey and soda. As with the night before, fegs and feg equivalents started trickling in. Robyn and Grant soundchecked, and I thought of taping, but I would have felt rather self-conscious, and they weren't actually finishing any songs anyway. But for archival purposes, here's what I caught snippets of: She Belongs to Me Trams of Old London Gene Hackman St. Expedite I Often Dream of Trains Sounds Great When You're Dead Uncorrected Personality Traits Don't Look Down Mighty Joe Moon Flavour of Night Finally, the magic moment arrived and they let us into the Croc's tiny performance area. I got a nice martini and positioned myself just back from the stage, right next to Jeme and Eddie. I tried to convince Jeme and Viv that my drink was "just water with some olives in it." But Jeme saw through me. Then the reasons that we came all the way the hell up here took the stage. Grant introduced Robyn like a 33 rpm impressario played at 45. The pre-encore set was the same as the night before, in terms of songs, but this time Robyn and Grant bantered like a veteran comedy team, while the music itself was a bit more ragged, especially as the show went on. I feared that Grant would sit on his drink again, like he did when I saw him in March, but he didn't. Good beans. The encores complemented the Portland ones nicely, with those who saw both shows pretty much getting the whole story, but with enough new stuff to make the trip worthwhile (at least, IMHO.) During Viva Sea-Tac, Grant did an awesome little hip-hop dance and busted out with the human beat box. Right on! Grant pointed out that Elvis left the building more often than he entered it, and Robyn made the observation that Jimmy Hendrix *was* the building. Then he paused, and said, "well, he certainly is now, anyway," alluding to Paul Allen's ego-monstrosity over at Seattle Center. No set list, as Eddie just posted his, and it's better than anything I'd come up with. But so, in the previous installment, I talked about Happiness and Flavour of Night, and the next day, during the inevitable morning-after-the-night-before, as I was wandering Seattle, I found myself listening quite a bit to my recordings of those two songs, and thinking about what I nice time I'd had the previous two days. The songs put me into the state of mind that I described, and I was thinking about all the cool people that I got to be in the presence of, and I really knew how Jeme feels when he says "fegs are the best people," and I understood how Joel felt when he got blasted and wrote to the whole list and said that he was loved each of us and very one of us every much, and how Quail felt when he wrote his long and rambling disertation on the same subject. I realize that it's kind of easy for me to poke fun, to take the "oh, ha ha, look at him, talking emotions in public without irony. What a rube," stance, but in spite of that I would just like to say that, even if it's the first thing next to impossible for us all to be in the apex of that feeling, where we are in it most profoundly, at the same time, many, if not all of us, get to it sooner or later, every so often. At the heart of that feeling of kinship, for me at least, is a powerful sense of not being alone, and of not being the only one who is affected by a particular piece of music, or a work of art, or whatever. I mean, sometimes, if I'm talking to someone who loves, like, Metallica or something, I feel like they might as well be of a different species -- not because they're "beneath" me, but because their frame of reference is so *different*. So I just want to say that if you ever feel that sense of belonging, you're also not alone in being affected by that kinship that comes of not feeling alone. Work it out, it makes sense with a little effort. So, thank you Chris, for letting me play chess on your palm pilot. Thank you, Tom, for showing me how to navigate a wheelchair over a curb, and for conversing with me about fancy restaurants in San Francisco. Thank you, Eddie, for figuring out how to get a photograph of you and gNat and I under the Sleater-Kinney sign. Thank you, gNat, for playing your tape, for hanging out with me Saturday afternoon, and for waxing enthusiastic about Grant-Lee. Thank you, Jeme, for resourcefully and considerately calling Hi Score to let me know what the heck was going on, and for finding a way to squeeze us all into the car. And thank you Viv, for calling the taxis, and for your sense of humor about the crowded conditions. And, in a more general iteration of each of the thank-you's above, a big thank you to all of you, for making me feel a bit less alone. No, I'm not drunk. Yes, the martini has worn off. Take care, everyone. - -Michael Wolfe "bum, bum, bum, satellite of love" ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 27 Jun 2000 14:24:54 +1200 From: digja611@student.otago.ac.nz Subject: Re: Eb overalls all over >What >rare, out-of-print albums are at the top of your frustrated "search" list, >which you can't find anywhere? hmmm. This load comes with the proviso that I don't e-shop, so some of these may be available on the web somewhere... some (but not all) of these I have on vinyl, but none on CD Bangles - All over the place (has this ever been released on CD?) David Byrne - Music from the knee plays Eno - My squelchy life (also The white cube, and various other recent limited releases) Edgar Froese - Ages (my copy is scratchy beyond belief) Gondwanaland - Gondwanaland Ron Goodwin - The Beatles Concerto (!) Russell Morris - Wings of an eagle Gerry Rafferty - Sleepwalking (believe it or not) Renaldo and the Loaf - The elbow is taboo Paul Simon - The Paul Simon songbook (see my recent email on same) Toy Love - Toy Love Zeitgeist - Zeitgeist those are off the top of my head. I'm sure there are beaucoup d'others. James James Dignan___________________________________ You talk to me Deptmt of Psychology, Otago University As if from a distance ya zhivu v' 50 Norfolk Street And I reply. . . . . . . . . . Dunedin, New Zealand with impressions chosen from another time steam megaphone (03) 455-7807 (Brian Eno - "By this River") ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 26 Jun 2000 22:27:22 EDT From: MARKEEFE@aol.com Subject: Re: Eb all over the depraved Sunset Strip In a message dated 6/26/00 2:26:49 PM, ljl@w-rabbit.com writes: << Oh my god, Baby Bird is *TERRIBLE*!!! I bought the "Ugly" CD, and I couldn't even believe how bad it was...oh my dear Mr. Keefe-! What do you know that I don't know....??? (probably about a million things, including basic math) >> I do know basic math. I also know that, while very similar, Baby Bird and Babybird are different. When written as two words, it is Stephen Jones alone and the works in question are home 4-track recordings made in the early 90's and released as 5 CDs, each of which is limited to around 1,000 or 1,500 copies. There is also a U.S. 2-CD collection called "Greatest Hits" that compiles the best from these 5 CDs (plus a couple of exclusive tracks). These 5 CDs were released from 1995 to 1997. In 1996, Babybird, a band led by singer/songwriter Stephen Jones, released their first album, "Ugly Beautiful." It's all right. I don't even own it, but have heard it several times and plan on picking up the next used copy I find for $4-5. That album's single "You're Gorgeous" is catchy, but around half of the album consists of reworkings of songs released (in better form) on the Baby Bird CDs. Babybird's 2nd album, 1998's "There's Something Going On," is fantastic! Well, I like it a lot, anyway. It's more stripped down and has a darker tone, this being more reminiscent of the Baby Bird recordings. Last month saw the release of Babybird's third album, "Bugged." I like it pretty well, but that's mostly just because it sounds pretty and I've grown really fond of Stephen Jones' voice and style. It's overly happy, which I like sometimes, but not others. The music really shimmers, but is also pretty bloated, production-wise. All in all, I would highly recommend Baby Bird's "Greatest Hits" (2 CDs for a suggested retail price of only $14.97!! :-)) or Babybird's "There's Something Going On" . . . although the latter was never released in the U.S., so that's a bit more of a commitment (if you, uh, live in the U.S., that is). That's the word! :-) - -----Michael K. ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 26 Jun 2000 22:37:14 EDT From: HSatterfld@aol.com Subject: Re: Eb all over my record collection >What rare, out-of-print albums are at the top of your frustrated >"search" list, which you can't find anywhere? Not sure if this is out-of-print, but it is at least annoyingly hard to find. In 1989, Apache Records released a CD called, "Ed Haynes Sings Ed Haynes". I have this CD, and I find it quietly hilarious, although I expect it sold about three copies because it was labeled 'folk', and because I bought three myself. CDDB says Ed released another CD called "Poolside Phone". I know he still performs in San Francisco, perhaps I have to go to his show to buy this. But I can't find it anywhere on the internet. ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 26 Jun 2000 21:53:12 -0500 From: "Brian Huddell" Subject: RE: Eb overalls all over > >What > >rare, out-of-print albums are at the top of your frustrated > "search" list, > >which you can't find anywhere? No apologies for my childhood: The Brains, any of their 3 releases but especially the Steve Lillywhite produced self-titled debut from 1980. Atlanta band, power-pop almost but thicker and crunchier than jangly. Chief claim to fame: penned "Money Changes Anything" later Lauperized for mass consumption. ------------------------------ Date: 26 Jun 2000 23:48:54 -0400 From: twofangs@gurlmail.com Subject: those hard to find records and cds and a lot of Robyn Well, as Eb said, we all know where I am now ... that would be back in Portland until Michael Wolfe's thang (july 4th) and then I'm not sure where I will be. Also - my gurlmail address book crapped out on me - so anyone who would like to correspond with me, please just send me and email and I can get an addy book back together ... > said jbj: >I also want the Stranglers - Raven album. >It probably still costs like $25-30 bucks to get it on cd now, right? ugh. >Why isn't that stuff available in the states??? Wow I thought that stuff *would* be available in the states. In any case, I have the cd and would be pleased to burn a copy for you when I get home. Now I must ask a question ... I've never seen the list so dead after a Robyn tour ... Are people getting tired of hearing Queen Elvis? Is it that Robyn is getting older and grouchier? There are a number of songs *I* could go a few years without him playing - he has so much work that remains untouched and has not been heard live by many people. *I* think a piano tour is in order, to spice it up for all Robyn fans. I also think if RH is going to be disrespectful to fans and fegs ... (not me personally - he was delightful of course 8-) ... glad to see me out of the hospital blah blah blah ... but i know that some bad experiences were had by some fegs and I'm not really sure why we aren't talking about them. I can name several .... but it is inappropriate of me to do so. We all like Robyn as a singer / songwriter ... does it matter if we don't like him as a person? I'm quite befuddled as to why no one has told their story about Robyn blowing them off. There. I said it. Some people's feelings were hurt, and this seems like the setting to talk about how we feel about Robyn - the man and his music. Yuck - sounds like a VH-1 special. Just curious my fellow fegs. I think the man is the art, so his personality affects his work - but perhaps you don't care ... just a wonderin' fading back into yesterday, randi *what scares you most will set you free* ps - if robyn is going to be selling his cds only at shows and through the museum, shouldn't he be even more gracious to fans - or am I the only one that cares? ________________________________________________________________________ - --> get your free, private gURLmail account at http://www.gURLmail.com !! ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 26 Jun 2000 22:58:20 -0500 From: "Brian Huddell" Subject: Chills 1) Nice to see how many people are downloading the Bottom Line MP3s. Apologies for my measly DSL upstream bandwidth. Try again if you get a "too many users" message. Server's up 24/7 as long as there's interest. 2) I'm a very-long-term lurker on this list. Is there any way, woj, to generate a ratio of number of years subscribed vs. say, number of words posted? No, I'm sure there's not. But I think I might win that prize having been subscribed since the gnu.ai.mit.edu days yet only posting twice or thrice a year in all that time. Jeez, that wasn't very interesting, was it? 3) Alright here's the meat: You're the smartest people I don't actually know so maybe you can help with this. There's a song on the Chills "Soft Bomb" album called "Song For Randy Newman Etc." I know a lot of you know it. For those who don't it's a songwriters' lament, and there's litany of damaged songwriters in one of the verses: Others made the same mistake Men like Wilson, Barrett, Walker, Drake On the journey they were forced to make Simple question, who's Walker? I've never worked too hard on it, but I can't think of a Walker whose name belongs alongside Brian, Syd, and Nick. Who am I missing? Thanks, brian ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 27 Jun 2000 00:08:48 -0400 From: overbury@cn.ca Subject: Re: those hard to find records and cds and a lot of Robyn Randi: > Now I must ask a question ... > I also think if RH is going to be disrespectful to fans and fegs > > I'm quite befuddled as to why no one has told their story about Robyn > blowing them off. OK, feggies -- out with it! - -- Ross Overbury Montreal, Quebec, Canada ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 26 Jun 2000 23:19:59 -0500 From: "Brian Huddell" Subject: RE: Eb overalls all over > Chief claim to fame: penned "Money > Changes Anything" later Lauperized for mass consumption. Erm, what money actually changes is Everything. ------------------------------ Date: Mon, 26 Jun 2000 21:53:48 -0800 From: tclark@apple.com Subject: Eb Worked At All American Burger Short version of my PDX/SEA trip: Robyn and Grant-Lee were awesome. Fegs are the greatest. Long Version: Here goes. I met up with Chris Franz at SFO for our 2:33PM flight to Portland, where Jeme was to be waiting to pick us up. As we were waiting for the plane, Chris and I were going over the feg population in the Pacific Northwest region of the USA, trying to establish who lived where and whom we haven’t met yet. Chris floored me with “the Seattle-ites seem a little further out of reach.” It was going to be one of those weekends. We boarded the plane with a minimum of inconvenience and were sitting in our assigned seats when I looked up and saw Grant-Lee Phillips coming through the cattle line. I alerted Chris and as he was on the aisle he was able to peek up the line and look for our man. Sure enough, Robyn strolled right past us looking - as he often does - as though he was in his own world. GLP and RH settled into their assigned seats in the back of the plane amongst the screaming babies and the diarrhea-afflicted. I didn’t like seeing that. “Put those men in First Class!” I yelled, but I was quickly subdued by the smell of our seat mate eating his leftover Chinese food. I hung my head and sighed. “I did my best” I muttered with my best Iron Chef humility. After we took off I cracked open the Nick Drake biography which was a recent birthday gift. For some family background, it starts off with a short mention of the shipyard where the Titanic was built. I took note of the ominous nature of the text and it got me thinking: While I usually take time to evaluate whether or not this would be an OK time in my life to go down in a plane crash, crashing this flight would especially suck due to the higher than normal cult figure-to-normal Joe ratio. I rationalized our impending fiery deaths by figuring we would at least be footnotes in the annals of Feg history. Upon landing in Portland, Chris rushed off the plane to alert Jeme as to the especially noteworthy passengers who were about to deplane. I waited on board; I’m usually the last one off the plane for reasons that will become obvious shortly, if they aren’t already. The top of my head blew off when the “light rock” they were pumping through the 737’s PA system consisted of Katrina and The Wave’s “Walking on Sunshine”! Surely this will bring a smile to Robyn’s face, right? I turned in my seat and spotted him coming up the aisle. Indeed he was singing to himself, but as he got closer to me I noticed he really wasn’t paying much attention to the surrounding music. Oh well, I thought it was funny anyway. I was summoned to the front of the plane when my wheelchair arrived from the cargo hold. I made my way forward and sat, then got a friendly boost up the jetway from Chris. (Side Note: Did I ever tell you that I went to Spain a few years ago? Well in Spain they call the jetway “The Finger”. I explained to the Spanish flight attendant that in America we call something else “The Finger”.) As we got out into the terminal I noticed I was sinking horribly into my chair, as if caught ass-first in a Venus Fly Trap. I explained to Chris that I should probably duck into the men’s room to evaluate the situation. I discovered that the Herculean baggage handlers at PDX had, while attempting to unfold the chair, sheared the heads off four of the six screws that hold the seating panel to the body of the chair. I tentatively resumed the ass squeezing and exited the bathroom to find that Jeme had finally met up with Chris. I explained the situation and Jeme took charge immediately, as he is wont to do. He discovered that we needed to go down to Baggage Claim and file a report or something. We did so and, long story short, assuaged the problem using the ubiquitous plastic zip-tie. We made sure to grab extras as we unanimously concluded that they would not hold up under my fat ass. Needless to say, they were changed out routinely throughout the weekend. Jeme, Chris and I hightailed it over to the Aladdin where we were soon joined by the cycling Michael Wolfe, the - REDUNDANCY ALERT! - elegantly attired Viv, and the Thoth tin toting [g]Natalie. Food and beverage was consumed and we finally entered the venue. The Feg Contingent occupied most of the entire first row. Joining Lawrence and Sally at the Aladdin that night were yours truly, Chris Franz, gnat, Carole, Michael W., Eddie, Jeme, Viv, Cynthia, John Jones, and Michael Keefe (I apologize if I’ve forgotten anybody - you retain the right to hit me upside the head). Randi was unable to attend, and we were sad about that. I was a bit annoyed by the sound at the Aladdin. It was rather cavernous, and for some reason Robyn’s vocal on “Queen Elvis” had way too much echo on it. I liked the rendition of “Gene Hackman” though, and also Robyn’s improv of Eddie’s request for “Bitchin’ Camaro”, which was interpreted on stage as “Changing Into Maryland”. A particular highlight was when jbj placed his full height traffic cone on stage before the first encore. Grant entered first to solo on “Happiness” and proceeded to do half the song seated at the piano with the cone on his head. There was much feggery after the show and pictures were taken to prove it. A smaller version of the crowd gathered at a bar/restaurant around the corner from Jeme & Viv’s residence and listened to Eddie belch and Jeme explain the MPAA vs. Sony lawsuit from back in the Betamax days (most of you are too young to remember the Betamax. I’m going to let Mark Gloster explain what it was). Chris and I stayed with most gracious and hospitable Jeme and Viv that night. Part II Coming soon... ------------------------------ End of fegmaniax-digest V9 #169 *******************************