July 22, 2005


Baltimore: Home of Lungfish, Crab Chips and The Wire . Charm City, tonight we are yours and you are ours, and if you come to Charm City Arts Space at 8pm, you can see Al and I perform our written works. If you know Tonie Joy, please make him show up, I want him to re-enact the interview from issue 15 - live - with me

Further egregious self promotion of my write-slingin': This week's Chicago Reader, where I go luv-you-long-time on Sufjan's illinois vitae and then Jane Fonda's autobiog. The Jane book is heartbreak: perma-misunderstood, reckons her private life with her public in a careful meter & wakes up at 60, realizing that not only is she married to rancheroo/known asshat Ted Turner -- but she has spent most of her life hemming herself not to threaten the men around her with her intellect, drive, heart and power. It is intense, and at times hard to read -- every woman has her own Roger Vadim to reconcile in retrospect. The Sufjan pc is pretty heavily edited -- I am bummed on the line about how God is not even a comfort (not a sentiment I co sign), doubly bummed as it replaced a line about the intersection of the erotic with the eccleasiastic (sp?) that I was particularly attached to -- but like the sample sez: "These are the breaks"...

DC-update: The reading: There was no mic, and since I am not the booming profundo that Al is, they had to close the windows and doors. It went from "writer" to "winner of wet t shirt contest" by the time I got through my first peice. The room went from "tolerable" to "eau de butthole" in about 4 minutes.
I could tell you about Jeff Ott, but as Al said, I already accidentally got vengence - as Jeff walked past and clearly heard me mocking him last night - though maybe the Joan Armatrading comparison is a compliment to his ears. I will say this, and let you do the math: When we loaded out and left, he had been going for an hour and 45 minutes. If a song about troubled runaways containing the lines "Daddy, he came in your room, he took what he wanted / yeah, that's right, Daddy, he was your first time" is the sort of next level politco-punk intensity you are looking for - look no further than Mr. Ott. If you are looking for a book reading that combines the rambling narrative flavor of an epic "share" at an Narcotics Anonymous meeting in purgatory with say, a 30 minute rant about why it's important that abortion remain legal -- we found yr dude, his name is Jeff Ott, and if yr on the eastern seaboard, chances are, he's already on his way.

This morning, we got up early and went to NPR HQ, so I could be interviewed about the Hold Steady for their story about them. I think I did "okay" - though Al, who heard the whole thing spake as we exited: "I never want to heard what "a bunch of nerdy punks" version of J Geils Band or Journey, fronted by a guy who can't sing, sounds like. You guys made the Hold Steady sound like the worst band ever." AWESOME!

Posted by Jessica at July 22, 2005 11:35 AM | TrackBack