...A Long Time

Righto, moving right along from last night, we come to the Winnipeg Jazz Festival. Wow. Me just being there was a giant fluke. The initial conversation went something like this:

Pittman: So, you going to the concert tonight?

Derek: Nah, I don't think so. I need to save up my money. Aren't tickets like $45?

Pittman: Well, here, I'll give you this (hands me Greg Gatien's performer's pass), but I'll need it back at the end of the night.

Derek: Awesome! Thanks!

Actually, I first had to check to see if I could go, and that got the thumbs up, so I called him after my lesson to let him know what was up, and we met behind the concert hall, away from prying eyes, very cloak and dagger-like. Obviously, I bear no resemblance to the light-haired saxophonist/professor from Brandon, so I had to keep my tag backwards throughout the night to ensure that nobody got wise to the gig, yo. I had my horn with me so that I would look more like a performer and no one would get suspicious. I saw Mr. Pollard in the lobby, that was cool talking to him again. So I watched and listened to PrarieAir7 and then McCoy Tyner with him in the balcony, which apparently has the best sound in the place, as it's right behind the sound guy, or something like that. That was a breathtaking concert, to be sure. I loved how McCoy moved from dissonance to beauty so effortlessly and without breaking a stride. It wasn't entirely my cup of tea, but it kept me interested for the entire show, so it was a success in my books. Afterwards, I was going to head home, but John, Curt, Joel, Derek (Ullenboom, or D-Boom), and Andrew (who works at Sobey's in the deli) convinced me to join them. We headed over to the Liberty Grill to check out Michelle Gregoire. Mr. Hamilton was playing bass for her, and we also saw Mr. Workman there. We all shared a bottle of wine, then headed for the King's Head Pub to listen to Oliver Lake. Man, that was some crazy shit. He was playing some really interesting stuff; stuff you'd normally hear on a free jazz recording played over a standard background that swung like crazy. Something for everyone, I tell ya. Anyhow, Curt and Joel ended up talking to Charnet Moffett, McCoy Tyner's bassist, and eventually everyone got in on an impromptu performance of 'Now's The Time'. I didn't play because I suck, Joel didn't play because Will Bonness was on piano already, and Curt didn't play because...Well, I don't remember his name...Nashit something or other....Great....Now I feel like a dick....Was already on drums. After all the fun had ended there, We went out for a late evening meal to Johnny G's, we walked back, then I walked to the parking lot at the end of the street MTC is on alone. As I was leaving the lot, I saw a group of kids maybe no more than 10 or 11 just wander through the area. It was probably one of the most surreal things I'd ever seen in my life. Weird. I got home at 4:30 AM.

The next day, Joel had told me that he could get me a VIP pass, since Dave had snagged a whole bunch from his job at St. John's Music. I called him up and he told me to meet him outside the place. I show up, and he isn't there. I saw D-Boom, apparently Joel gave him the pass to give to me and maybe he forgot about it, so when I asked him is he had seen Joel, he just gave me an extra ticket that he had (since he managed to get himself a BS performers pass. Ha, didn't stop him from getting carded at the King's Head the night before. Curt had to let him in the back), and I got the pass after the show when we all met up and went our separate ways again. The show was the Roberto Occhipinti Quintet opening for the Paquito D'Rivera Quintet. In my opinion, that show was far superior to McCoy the night before. The sheer level of virtuosity displayed by the whole band, how tight they were, how alive and full of the music they were, was just awe-inspiring. Plus, it brought back some great memories of Cuba, and Paquito seemed to get along better with the crowd, who warmed up to him immediately. Afterwards, I headed over to the Fairmont Hotel to meet Samantha and her friend Murray, a trumpet player in the FoM, to see Denzel Sinclaire. That was a nice show, a good change of pace from all the high energy shows I'd seen over the last couple days. He has a really smooth voice, like chocolate, I think Sam said. Afterwards, we went to Johnny G's, and I drove Sam and Murray home while we listened to Radiohead's Kid A. I got home around 2 AM.

Fast forward a couple weeks, and we come to grad. Overrated, to say the least, but not bad. The convocation wasn't as hellish as I thought it would be. I led everyone in another amazing Aussie chant, went out for lunch with the family, then went to Shane's to smoke cigars and drink champagne and eat shrimp in the gazebo. That was a great afternoon, I'll say. Myself, Shane, Dan, Dave, Joel, Colin, Nick, Rob, and Jamison. Unfortunately, I had to drive home so I couldn't get drunk on champagne, although I hear that it's something I should try because it feels really bubbly. I showered, changed, took pictures, then headed out to pick up Sam - who graciously agreed to go with me - and threw in Live at Folsom Prison. What a great album to listen to on your graduation day. So uplifting. Dinner was alright, the music was bad, the speeches were ok (except for Mr. Evans'. His was absolutely brilliant), and it was kind of sad knowing that I may not see so many of these people again. Ms. Mlodzinski is going to Vancouver in the fall, Joel is going to Toronto, Jamison and Rob are going to Hamilton (I think that's where Queen's is) and they might even be gone before I get back from BC. I haven't talked to Dave or Dunja or Lucia or Valgardson in quite a while. Luce is in Toronto now, we took her out to dinner and got her buzzed the night before she left. It's a wicked world we live in. Safe Grad wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. I had a couple beers, got mildly drunk, and played pinball for about an hour. Most of the night I spent looking after Jenna. Soooooooooo drunk. I capped the evening off just chatting with Mike, Steve, Brandon, and Chan. Damn, I'm gonna miss those guys. So it goes.

Fat forward a couple days to Canada Day, and..........................Wilco! That's right, I spent my Canada Day watching a band from Chicago with Sam. Jeff Tweedy is simply amazing, Glen Kotche is such an incredible and talented drummer/percussionist, and Nels Cline just rocked my socks. It was a perfect performance. I'd gush about the other three band members, but I don't know their names off hand.

Fast Forward another couple weeks, and I got out to the Fring Festival last Thursday with Sam and some of her friends after I saw the WJO at the Forks and had dinner at Muddy Waters with my parents. Rebel Without A Niche was the title of the one-man show we saw. Hilarious and thoughtful. Far better than what I saw last year. Didn't get any gelatis, though.

So, that's been my life over the past few months in a nutshell. Chew on it.

Boy, You're Gonna Carry That Weight....

Damn, so much has happened since I last got on here. Job, concerts, grad - it's been a hell of a time, so let's go back to before my last post, when I should've brought this up.

The Big Band Dance! Amazing night, out to 4 AM, good food, good music, good people, good times. We played two kickass sets which were slightly painful by the end of the night, but that's what happens when you've got 'Soul Vaccination', 'Sing, Sing, Sing', 'John Brown's Other Body', and 'Pick Up The Pieces' all in the same set. Highlight of the night was probably Jamison dancing with Swanson's mom. That was a riot. Afterwards, Swanson, Walker, and I decided to head to Papa George's for a late night meal, which was great. I really can't do that night justice with written words, it was so amazing; the kind of night that makes you grateful to be alive and surrounded by people you care about. Such is the power of music and the ability of Mr Workman to channel it and direct it through us to become an awesome force in life. I'm going to miss him in the fall (unless I can get lessons from him. That remains to be seen - he told me to check with him in September).

Next was IB exams, and those have been pretty well documented, I think. I passed. 4's in English and Physics HL, 5's in French and Math SL, and 6's in History HL and Chemistry SL. D in TOK, and B for the Miles paper. Total: 31/45. Acceptable, I guess. I thought I did so much better. Maybe a 5 or 6 in English (I rocked my oral commentary and my exams went pretty well too), a 6 in French and Math, and maybe a 7 in Chemistry or History. It's funny, because I think I know exactly what went wrong in most of my courses. Math: the labs. I did shitty on them. Chemistry: the labs. "You need two sets of data tables lol!" "WTF? Why didn't you mention this at the beginning of the year?" "LOL!" English: world-lit papers. Last time I use Wikipedia as a source. I should've known better. Crap. Physics: actually, it was probably the labs that kept my mark higher, since I totall got owned on Paper 3 by Optics. History: my 18th birthday was the day before the 2.5 hour Paper 3. Do the math.

That actually brings me to my next topic: my 18th birthday. Six beers, six shooters. 5 at Nick's place (along with two shots of Canadian Club Whiskey), 1 at Dylan O'Connors, where I was also treated to a prarie fire, rum and coke, tequila, and Irish Car Bomb from Dan "Irish" Collins. The result? 10 pukes. 5 the night of, and 5 the morning after. I didn't have breakfast that morning. I woke up at 6 to do some last-minute cramming. Hull and I had a good laugh about it the other day at Sobey's, so I'm glad he's happy with the outcome. Everyone deserves to get out on their 18th birthday, he said a couple days after the fact. Dunja took pictures, bless her soul. Note to self: never let those pictures fall into the hands of my family.

After that, not a whole lot happened until grad. Got a job, started trumpet lessons with Pittman. Those have been going well, except now I've got to redo my embouchure (big surprise there) and my range is essentially shot to shit for now. Practise, mofo! I practise at work, averaging about 2 hours or so a day now (something I should probably increase to 3 or 4 hours). Let's see now...an hour of long tones to get my tuning in shape should help, an hour and a half of all the exercises, and the rest to work on pieces and improv. Not all at once, mind you. Tomorrow, I'll start before work at around 11:30 or so, and finish from maybe 9-12. Yeah, that sounds about right. I'll ask Andrew if he's got some classical rumpet recordings I could borrow. Limewire does dick all.

Final concerts came and went. First was concert band. That went ok. I wasn't overcome with emotion like I thought I would be, but I still had a great time. The concert personally didn't feel overly spectacular, but that's probably because we'd played the songs into the ground during class, and in class is where we'd had our most brilliant moments. Wind Ensemble performed pretty good, it felt great playing. 'Sun Dance' by Frank Tichelli and 'Night Dances for Wind Ensemble' by some other guy. Fairly easy tunes, but I liked them anyway. They certainly weren't 'October' or 'Satiric Dances' by any stretch of the imagination. Too bad we didn't play 'Danza Sinfonica'. My chops just weren't up to it, and the same could probably be said for half the band (*cough clarinets cough*). It was the only challenging song we played all year (except for English Folk Song Suite, which was probably only hard for me, since I had the solo part and nowhere to rest). Ms. Mlodzinski turned out to be an amazing conductor. I loved working with her, she was all about the minute details that made everything better. 'Kaddish' was so beautiful. I listened to it the other day and remembered playing it in class. It gave me chills.

The jazz concert a week later was an amazing high note on which to end the year. Pittman played a song with us ('Pussywiggle Stomp' by Don Ellis, in 7/4). He took a solo, and no one clapped, there were all in awe. You could feel the collective "holy shit, that was mindblowing!" emanating from the crowd. 'Samba del Gringo' by Gordon Goodwin, 'The Blues Machine' by Sammy Nestico and performed by the Count Basie Orchestra, and 'Thank You Very Much (But No Thanks)' by Hugh Fraser (Britney sang on this one. Hot damn, she's got pipes!). We got two standing ovations, I took a solo in 'Thank You Very Much', and we broke into a spontaneous jam of.....'The Chicken'! Great way to end the year on a high note, literally - the very last note in 'Pussywiggle Stomp' is a G above the staff, which both Pittman and Shane nailed.

It's getting late, so I'll finish up for now with this:

Baritone Saxophone: Britney Juchnowski, Heather Macphee

Tenor Saxophone: Sarah Beattie, Alexia Graba-Landry, Christine Gourlik, Colin Richards

Alto Saxophone: David Barchyn, Jenina Kulik, Sarah Petty

Trombone: Amy Davidson, Dale Unruh, Joel Visentin, Brad Young

Trumpet: Anthony Lee, Shane Masters, Chiara Stellacci, moi, Mark Walker

Guitar: Colin Peterson, Rob Swanson

Bass: Rob McMahon, Amanda Blanchette

Piano: Jesse Skelton

Drums: Dan Bertnik, Courtney Blanchard, Curt Nowosad, Nick Turnbull

Director: Blaine Workman

I just helped myself to some brandy and toasted you all. Peace, love, and good luck.

Rock Bottom

It's done. Two and a half years of my life are done. The final exam only took 25 minutes to write, but we all had to wait until the very end to leave. I started a nice Aussie chant once we were all outside. That was pretty sweet. I was shaking all through band this morning. I am relieved.

Why am I glad that IB is over? IB has contributed, either directly or indirectly to pretty much everything negative that has happened to me over the last 7 months or so. This year has marked my worst health and physical state ever. Late nights of studying and homework, combined with stress and lack of exercise have to led to at least three nervous breakdowns that I can recall (and the first one happened before the school year even started. I was working on my Miles paper when I got frustrated and started yelling at the computer and running around the house....stupid bug...you go squish now...), spent a lot of time with my head feeling like it was stuck in a toilet being constantly flushed, and lost my dinner on more than a few occasions.

IB has also cut into my personal life. Anyone who knows me also knows that I have a great passion for music and I love playing my trumpet (FoM, watch out). However, nearly every performance that I have played in has come immediatly after a prolonged bout of not practising at all and consequently I played like ass in the concerts. The Christmas concert was the week right after the musical, during which I did not practise at all. That's what happens when you've got to be at a theatre 25 minutes from your place for 6 until 10:30 each night from Monday to Saturday. If I hadn't been taking IB English, Mrs. Bohonos wouldn't have had me as a volunteer to do the sound. I didn't mind doing the sound, but I also wasn't able to practise on the weekend after the musical because I was scrambling like mad to catch up on all my work and fit it in with reffing (oh, that weekend was terrible. Stupid fucking coach. Ah well, she got what was coming to her eventually and it was all the more sweeter that I was there and got to see it). I played just awful in the concert on Wednesday. No range, no tone quality, no endurance. Ugh. I'm probably being too hard on myself, but I'm just bitter because as soon as we came off the stage I went into the jazz room and played the melody in 'Yagi-Bushi' perfectly after screwing it up out there. The jazz concert was a little better because by then I actually had time to do some practising, but it still wasn't all it could've been, in regards to my playing.

Then there was Chicago. No practising that week. Writing effing TOK paper and finishing the Miles paper (which turned out not to be due for another month and a half). Had another breakdown in there. I played terribly in Chicago, my immune system was already shot from staying up late every night studying and working on those papers, so that the very first morning I came down with a massive head cold after the 16 hour bus ride. For the next few weeks or so, I wasn't feeling well enough to do any good practising, and IB was loading on even more work, from group 4 (I got my revenge for that, though. Glittery rainbows! w00t!), to just a crapload of tests in everything. In IB, when it rains, it pours. Consequently, my personal playing at Optimist wasn't all that great (even though symphonic band and the senior jazz band both got 5/5 times three, and the wind ensemble got 5/5, 4.5/5, and 4/5). Fortunately, the Big Band Dance didn't go that way, and now IB is done, so I can practise all I want before our concerts (concert band is May 31, 7:30 PM at MTC, $5 at the door; jazz is June 8, 7:30 PM at the Winnipeg Art Gallery, $5 at the door) and all should be good. If only I had enough time to put 'Danza Sinfonica' together...

All that IB work had quite an effect on my social life as well, which was just starting to come out of its hiding spot after all those years (17.5, to be precise). All that work pretty much meant that going out on weekdays would always be a no-go. I think Samantha and I went out once on a weekday once school had started again, and that pretty much ended terribly. When we broke up, one of the things she said she couldn't take was the definite lack of seeing each other. I didn't see her at all during exam week, not even the night before I left for Chicago because I had to finish writing those goddamn papers. Having to be home at 12:30 also didn't help, and I'm pretty sure that the curfew had something to do with IB (I need to rest to study well?...blargh...) So yes. IB helped destroy a perfectly good relationship. We're still good friends, in case anyone is wondering, and we might be going to see Wilco together, so it's not like that.

IB English stifles the creativity out of you. I especially loved the booklet we received explaining to us what was funny and what wasn't. You can't just enjoy poetry and novels for what they are; you need to pick apart every last word so that it reveals to you something that you really couldn't care less about Just enjoy the effing story; none of that in IB.

I've had it up to here (*indicates eye-level with hand) with IB. What has IB done for me, in the positive, though? I never have to take a frigging English course ever again. I had the sweetest history class ever. I can write a mean essay. I listened to so much Miles to write my paper. I had such a good time researching that piece that I don't care how awful my mark is. By the end, I was writing it for me, not for some stuffed turkey halfway around the world. Fuck that. I have a pretty good understanding of the theory of relativity. Now, universities are throwing themselves at me (or, they would be if I bothered to apply anywhere else, other than U of M). I also didn't have to deal with any stupid kids; they all got weeded out after grade 10.

Now it's over. Time to work on my valedictorian speech submission. Should be interesting.

11 Hours....

I'm on a roll
I'm on a roll, this time

I feel my luck could change

Kill me Sarah
Kill me again, with love
It's gonna be a glorious day

Pull me out of the air crash
Pull me out of the lake
'Cause I'm your superhero
We are standing on the edge

The head of state
Has called for me, by name
But I don't have time for him

It's gonna be
A glorious day
I feel my luck could change

Pull me out of the air crash
Pull me out of the lake
'Cause I'm your superhero
We are standing on the edge...

'Lucky' - Radiohead (Thom Yorke, Jonny Greenwood, Ed O'Brian, Phil Selway, Colin Greenwood)

Fill In The Blanks

Stolen from Sam....

Directions:
Put your music player on shuffle.
Press forward for each question.
Use the song title as the answer to the question.
No cheating.

How am I feeling today?
True Love Waits - Radiohead

Will I get far in life?
Big Ideas (Don't Get Any) - Radiohead

How do my friends see me?
Flea Market Girl - Lazlo Bane

When will I get Married?
Try Telling That To My Baby - The Heavy Blinkers

What's my theme song?
Ten Feet Tall - Hugh Dillo Redemption Choir

What is the story of my life?
My Time-Keeping Heart - Convoj

What am I like in bed?
Teen Town - Weather Report

How can I get ahead in life?
Green Spandex - Xavier Rudd

What is my best feature?
Superman - Lazlo Bane

How is today going to be?
Black Beauty - Duke Ellington

What is in store for this weekend?
She's In It For The Money - Matthew Good

What is my life like at the moment?
Palo Alto - Radiohead

What song describes my secrets?
Free - Luke Doucet

What is my current lover like?
N/A

What song will they play at my funeral?
Summertime - Humphrey Lyttleton

How does the world see me?
Honey I've Been Thinking About You - Jackie Greene

Will I have a happy life?
Evolution - Hot Buttered Rum String Band

What do my friends really think of me?
Hallelujah - John Cale

Do people secretly lust after me?
You Never Wash Up After Yourself - Radiohead

Will I accomplish my goals in life?
Worrywort - Radiohead

Will I find true love?
Lovely Ladies - Les Miserables

How do I treat others?
Bruised - The Bens

An Airbag Saved My Life

OK Computer by Radiohead is probably some of the most beautiful and artisitic music ever created. There is no doubt in my mind that it is one of the best albums recorded in the last 25 years or so, and they are the most creative group in the mainstream today. One of the most glaring aspects of OK Computer which makes it so special is that it truly is an album. It's not just a jumble of songs thrown together, but rather a cohesive unit in which all that matters is what comes between the opening of song one and the ending of song 12 ('Airbag' and 'The Tourist' respectively).

The lyrics seem to be written from the perspective of a sane man in an insane world, alienated by society's fixation on technology. In today's hectic and consumer-driven world, they are as relevant as ever and reflect a longing for a simpler, kinder world. From an exultation of relief after narrowly avoiding death in a car accident; to horror at the self destruction of people through drugs, alcohol, and networking, and being smothered by its presence; being abducted and taken to a perfect world by aliens; moving on to two lovers trying to escape the world; a man depressed by the dull routine that modern technology has created and is longing to break free but doesn't quite have the strength to pull himself up; the schizophrenic 'Karma Police' featuring an angry narrator threatening people he doesn't like, only to realize that the angry person isn't who he is at all and is shocked at the levels of vitriol of which he is capable; an interlude of a computerized voice describing the pleasentries of an everyday, ordinary, quiet existence; a cynical take on politics and elections; a frightening journey into the mind of an escaped mental patient; a weary summary of a dreadfully boring life by a man who wants a new beginning; the feeling of optimism knowing that you can sink no lower; a desperate plea to a tourist to slow down and enjoy life instead of rushing through the sights and not taking the time to appreciate the finer details. This is it only in a small nutshell.

Not only are the lyrics amazing, but the music is superb as well. The sleazy guitar riffs on 'Electioneering' scream "corruption!" at full volume, the mournful wails on 'Lucky' add a certain depressing element to otherwise optimistic words, the opening riff of 'Airbag' actually sounds like a car crash. As an interesting side note, the album starts with a man being amazed at surviving what seems to be a serious car accident, and ends with a plea for a person to slow down and enjoy life, making a cycle of the record that is really interesting and isn't found much on other records.

This is truly a classic album that everyone should appreciate for its timelessness. I know I do. More than a few songs on here are deeply personal to me. 'No Surprises' is about a man who is fed up with the way life is going for him; his job is terrible, he has a painful ache in his heart, and there are giant stresses placed on him at work and he is simply bored with routine and it's driving him crazy. While I may not exactly be contemplating suicide, I have definitly felt a connection to this character. A heart that's full up like a landfill: check. A job that slowly kills you: check. Bruises that won't heal: check. You look so tired unhappy: check. Bring down the government, they don't speak for us: check. I'll take a quiet life: check. A handshake, some carbon monoxide: uh....not exactly.... Such a pretty house and such a pretty garden (get me out of here): check. No alarms and so surprises, please: check.

The other song is 'Lucky,' which is about the feeling of optimism one gets when they know that their depression has hit rock bottom and they can't sink any further. It's a paradox of sorts, really. Lately, I have been feeling lots of stress in school, band, and life in general, and the weight of it all has really been keeping my spirits down. I don't want to disappoint the people I care about, nor do I want to be rejected by them. I look back on the past at times and wonder what went wrong and why didn't I realize that things were happening which would eventually lead me to this current state of mind I'm in. Haha, how can it possibly get any worse? That's really my only comfort. That, and knowing that at least some of it will be over in just under a month, and more in just under two months. At least the weather is getting nicer now.

So, there's my rant on Radiohead and their best album. I don't know what I'd do without it, honestly. It's just had such a soothing effect on me in troubled times that I can't imagine not owning it. God damn. I'm going to go pour myself a drink and toast Thom Yorke, Phil Selway, Ed O'Brian, Jonny Greenwood, and Colin Greenwood.

The Night And I Are Still So Young

Warning: mopey emo post ahead

Gen said an interesting thing to me the other day. "It's sad how we think we're so mature but we're probably not even close." It got me to thinking about how I live my life, and just what is meant by mature. In one sense of the word, I think I'm very mature. I'm respectful of others; I don't go out of my way to do harm to others, whatever "harm" may be; I work hard; I have realistic goals for the future. On the other hand, I also lead a very sheltered life. My curfew is pretty early compared to most of my friends, I'm not allowed to bus by myself to a lot of places in the city, even in the afternoon, until very recently I rarely ever went out on weekends (except for reffing). Mature means living? Will I start to live more when I'm 18? When I'm done IB exams (in 30 days)? Not until the summer? The night and I are still so young.

If you're ever in need of a quick new music fix, just start up Limewire or any other filesharing program, and search SXSW in the album section.

Edit: we'll have none of that.