Perils of Caffeine in the Evening

I thought I had things sealed up pretty well, but summer’s leaking away through fissures I never knew existed. I’m spending another precious week of it in Milwaukee, where I’m watching helplessly as the days noticeably shorten.

Last week in Seattle, we got out into the ‘hood for some quintessential summer walks. One night, we walked down to Greenlake and, on our way back, turned a corner and found a Night Out Against Crime block party in progress. Now, we’d had our own Night Out the week before, when the rest of the country had theirs. We asked a woman how they managed to stage their event a week or so later, and she said, “bad planning”.

Well, it might have been late, but it seemed to have been impeccably planned. There was, to our delight, a band, Six of One, playing some vintage rock on a parking strip, while kids rode trikes and skateboards and harassed each other with light sabers.

I had the S3 IS along, which takes pretty good video with stereo pickup. Here’s a rendition of the Allman Brothers’ tune One Way Out, with a bunch of cute kid-action shots:

This one is Del Shannon’s My Little Runaway.  At the beginning, you can hear me and Mrs. Perils guessing cluelessly at both the artist and the song.  Mrs. Perils, however, could probably get a degree in 60s musicology.  She partially saves her reputation by nailing the song title before the first word is sung, but we both strike out on the artist - we’re sure it’s The Ventures.  Some nice vocal cameos from Mrs. Perils here:

And this last number is CSN&Y’s Long Time Gone, with some delicious guitar work and, again, (possibly reluctant) vocal cameos from Mrs. Perils.  I think they’re darling:

We’re glad we discovered this little gathering, and we’ll look for the band whenever they’re giggin’.

We had a delightful time last night re-acquainting with Rockin’ Teenage Combo.  The venue, a little cafe in Ballard, was cozy and intimate, perfect for the acoustic set.  I was able to make some video - here’s a Spanish-sounding number that begins with a really whacky solo on the string bass, then grooves into a mesmerizing piano solo:

The band played tirelessly in the late 90s/early 2000s up and down the west coast, but it’s a hard life living out of a van and living on cover charges, and Dara finally moved back to the Tri-cities to help her mom run a restaurant, and to start a family.  PK and Olli continue to play in the area pretty frequently, and once every year or so, Dara comes to town and they put on a show.

I’ll add another video to this after my software finishes cooking it down.

(Later that same evening) Here’s an old number of theirs.  There’s a bitchin’ bass solo at about the 4:40 mark.  I apologize for the Tourette’s cinematography on these.  I was multitasking, trying to manage noshing plates, my beverage, the camera on an unreliable tripod, my beverage, actually concentrating on the music and, last but not least, my beverage:

Meanwhile, my brother in Atlanta is sending me photo and video cell phone messages from an REM concert.  There’s quite a contrast in the aural experience.  I just received a video of Losing My Religion, with my bro’s voiceover crooning, “That’s me in the spotlight, losing my erection!”  No detectable backup harmony from my SIL.

Seems like we’re on a cultural roll here.  Tonight, we’re off to the Ballard Jamhouse to hear a reunion engagement of a groove jazz trio that was our house band in the late 90s/early 2000s.  The group is called the Rockin’ Teenage Combo, comprised of Dara Quinn on keys, Paul Kemmish (PK) on upright and electric bass and Olli Klomp on drums.  We hired them to play for both of our 50th birthday parties, gigs that, by their mere definition, degraded their image.

I posted about them previously here, which includes some audio clips:

[audio:RTCPodcast.mp3]

I’m so psyched to be hearing them again.  They’re playing the gig at the Jamhouse at 9, then playing an extended set in a loft in the SODO district.  The loft is where we held Mrs. Perils’ 50th birthday party, but I think there’s not much chance of us making the Loft scene tonight, as the gig starts at 2 am.  We’ve been to the Loft a couple of other times in the early 2000s (one time exiting just as rosy-fingered dawn revealed herself to the city), but it’s pushing it these days to get Mrs. Perils out past 9:30.

I’ll try to record some clips.

On Wednesday, we stepped out after dinner to hear a jazz performance at the Good Shepherd Center a couple blocks from the house. I’d been tipped off about the performance because I’m on an email list from a bass player that has been one of our favorite musicians over the past decade. His name is Paul Kemmish, but most often he goes by “PK”. He plays both upright string bass and electric bass guitar.

We had never heard of the trio he was performing with Wednesday and didn’t know what to expect, but no matter what incarnation we’ve heard him in, we’ve seldom been disappointed.

The Good Shepherd Center and the adjacent property is a former nunnery and home for “wayward girls” that the Catholic Church sold to the city back in the 70s. It’s a huge hulk of a building that now houses a senior center, a private elementary school and various headquarters for non-profit organizations. As often as I’ve been in and around the building, I’ve never been to the upper floors.

This performance, then introduced me to a chapel space that I’d never known about, located on the fourth floor of the building. It’s not that often that we’re seated concert-style for a PK performance - it’s most often in a bar or a nightclub-style music venue.

The music this trio played was mostly improvisational, although it seemed “tight” in the sense that they knew where they were headed and were very attentive to each other. It was interesting to see PK playing outside his more familiar funk and groove riffs. The pickup on the video below is not the best, but you can see how hard the guy works and pick up a few of his riffs:

We latched onto PK back in 1998 0r 99 when he was part of a groove jazz trio called Rockin’ Teenage Combo. I had just returned from a business trip and we were hosting a young co-worker who wanted to visit Seattle for the weekend, and Mrs. Perils had read an interesting review of RTC. So up to Pike Street we went. By the time they had played 5 bars, I was hanging over the rail in rapt attention. They were a trio of PK on bass, a woman named Dara Quinn on keys and several different drummers. They played a driving, yet intricate acid-funk-jazz that you could either stand and drink in or boogie down to. Dara was a gifted keyboard player who was just as comfortable with a baby grand as she was with a Roland and a synth.

We stalked them (and a couple of other bands) around town after that, and they sort of became our house band. We hired them to play for both of our 50th birthday parties. Mrs. Perils’ was really cool, held in a loft in a warehouse south of downtown. RTC’s drummer that night was Jason McGerr, now the drummer for Seattle band Death Cab for Cutie.

Here’s a podcast of a few selections that I really like. The first is sort of breezy and poppy, and you can feel PK providing the solid foundation. In the second number, PK is playing bass guitar and Dara is playing her Roland electric keys. The other numbers are there if you like it and want a soundtrack for awhile.

[audio:RTCPodcast.mp3]

RTC broke up a few years ago. I think you might still be able to purchase their cd’s here.  I’m still going to make a podcast some day of bands that we’ve killed with our attention.

Chicago
I mentioned below that I would post from Chicago a week ago, but, like most of the promises I make, this one will be kept, perhaps even exceeding expectations. The occasion for being in Chicago was a first-time face to face meeting of several members of an online book club we’re in. We’ve corresponded for over a year, so everyone was pretty comfortable.
The ostensible gathering point was the Printers Row Book Fair, featuring booksellers’ booths and lectures. The weather on Saturday was just about perfect. We sniffed a bit at the booths, then went gallivanting all over downtown Chicago. We visited the Chicago Art Institute, Navy Pier, walked along the shore through Lincoln Park and up into the Gold Coast north of town, a mix of high-rise condos and jaw-droppingly charming brownstone houses.

The image of Chicago that comes to mind, especially to a Northwesterner, is of a big, dirty, inhospitable city. However, they have made a great effort to make downtown pedestrian-friendly, and on a nice day it’s a pleasure. (I’ve also been there for an Easter sleet storm that coated my car with 4 inches of ice).
Just to earn our chops as a book club, several of us attended a reading by Margaret Atwood - she’s on tour flogging her new book Oryx and Crake. She’s a witty and, in her contemplative way, passionate about issues facing humanity.
Folks pretty much adhered to their online personas.  A couple of the women were into this over-50 Red Hat Ladies thing, a sort of sweet bravado against the inevitable. Also made it easy to find them when they wandered. At 52, my wife is in denial, and indignantly dumps all the AARP mail into my pile, so she was defiantly bareheaded and unmoved by their entreaties to join in. She’ll be rock climbing in the Tetons next month with 20-somethings, so AARP goes into the recycling for now.