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Posted: Nov 2, 2007
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I wish saws sounded like that when you used them the normal way. Logging would be like listening to angels.
-- Charles Lavoie, November 2nd, 2007, 8:53pm
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Posted: Sep 26, 2007
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$4
We'll Let You Down
Jasonide's Blues
Dead or Enlightened
Love Slave
Design by Thomas Bayne, modernarthur.com
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Posted: Sep 14, 2007
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Now they take turns.
I trailed these guys last night. They were talking about how there are 2 Clean & Nasty shows coming up, and they were really excited about the second single release party, but they were worried that it would offend their stoic, Old World sensibilities to indulge in that much pleasure in one week's span. The man on the left has a complex about too much pleasure, because his parents ingrained in him, in the sneaky way that parents do, that you can smile if you want to, but if God sees you having too good of a time on earth, he'll take you away. It didn't help that once, he laughed at a knock knock joke and lifted his hand to smack his knee and knocked one of his mom's scented candles into an emroidered wall-hanging depicting famine during the Soviet occupation, and the whole house almost burned down. He learned that there aren't always such dire consequences to smiling, but still, life as an immigrant is not always funny stuff, so you may not want to anyway. He gathered from his serious folks that if you left your serious immigrant-face vigil for even a moment, the American authorities would come into your home as you were eating your perogies and take you away. Or worse, take your perogies away. The man on the right tried to cheer him up and offered him his five dollar coupon for Duane Reade so he could have five extra bucks in his pocket for beer at the C&N shows this week and next. The man on the left saw that the coupon had expired, but the gesture melted his heart.
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Posted: Aug 09, 2007
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Thursday night's show was canceled because we're mere humans and at the mercy of nature and old architecture. Our next show is at Mo Pitkins on Aug. 18th though, and you can always stalk a band member if you're looking to get a single.
You can also visit our myspace page, www.myspace.com/cleanandnasty or write cleanandnasty@gmail.com to request the single or to complain about whatever you want.
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Posted: Mar 7, 2007
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Jonathan Vincent on Gittleman, 3/6/2007:
He is the Goldwater. The officer. The cough syrup saucer. The secret santa. The panda smacker. the unsalted cracker.
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Posted: Feb 23, 2007
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Gittleman: You should have been a bass player, my friend.
Ian: I'm glad I'm not
Gittleman: Why?
Ian: Because I'd end up like you.
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Posted: Feb 23, 2007
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Gittleman: They had me drinking budweiser after budweiser then eventually I had to go to the bathroom.
Ian: Grab the dick, boiling up?
Gittleman: Yep, it took 2 days for the sting to go away.
Ian: Whiny cunt.
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Posted: Feb 23, 2007
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Ian: What comes in red? Your stomach?
Gittleman: No, my beard.
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Posted: Feb 23, 2007
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"Pump oxygen in that room. I'll pump music out."
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Posted: Jan 10, 2007
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video here: http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=1528821049
and here: http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=1528772209
What can't a Welsh banjo player do?
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Posted: Sep 22, 2006
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Some funny things:
CLOWNS - 1. There was an evil clown that my friend Joie saw leaving me that represented my perverted view of happiness as something repulsive (hence, my aversion to happy people and laughter).
2. Slava's Snow Show - a friend of mine is a clown in that show and I saw it and experienced serious clowning tonight.
3. David Letterman that same night: Despite the use of seltzer, many clowns become dehydrated.
SKULL & CROSSBONES - 1. On a Sunday, I meet up with Walter at random in Williamsburg. He's coming out of a thrift store. He just bought a shirt. He pulls out a tie at the last minute. I'm stopped at a traffic light and a little worried about pissing off fellow motorists. He pulls out a skull and cross bones tie from a plastic bag. He just bought it from the Salvation Army. "Nice tie, Walter! Can't wait to see it at the next show!"
2. Meeting in Astoria with Rachel about a possible orchestra coup, Rachel mentions her aunt's recent ranting about the Skull and Crossbones Society and how we're all going to hell in a hand basket and it's all a skull and crossbones society conspiracy.
3. There was this guy at the voting booths in Crown Heights. Jasonides and I rode our bikes to exercising our civic duty and our American right. The guy had a skull and crossbones print bag. He used the voting booth right after me. RIGHT after.
DIAMONDS: 1. People in Greece where funny tshirts. One of them said "I love Diamonds."
2. Neil Diamond on Jimmy Kimmel
3. Something about Diamonds on PBS I don't remember, could have been something about the documentary on Preston Sturges.
DERIVATIVES: 1. I took a message at work about "Live ore derivatives." Or at least that's what it sounded like. I can't tell, and I don't know anything about money, obviously.
2. At our last show, when I was lamenting our performance to Jonathan Vincent, he said he really liked the parts where we were out of tune and out of sync. He said it made our music sound "less derivative."
3. I read about "half derivatives" the next day when reading about Richard Feynman online.
Is this really spooky or what. It's got to be a sign of the apocalypse my mom was always talking about. I've been waiting for that apocalypse a long time.
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Posted: Aug 2, 2006
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I went to a liquor store in midtown that I've never been to before. I was hurrying with my selection, desperately trying to pay as fast as I could because the music in there was so bad. It was elevator music. It wasn't even the radio. And we weren't even in an elevator. It wasn't the blaring dance music of the shoe stores on 8th St.. It wasn't even that loud. It's supposed to be civilized and calming, but it enraged me. I had a physical reaction to it and its badness. This is not because I'm a music snob, or maybe it is. I don't think it is. I don't have great, detailed musical knowledge. I don't know a lot of bands. My rock and roll knowledge is paltry at best. Jazz... nada. Someone was talking to me about Steely Dan today and I was like, yeah, I've heard of them. See. It's embarrassing. No, I objected to the piped in music because it was BAD. Just very very bad. It's like biting into a rotten peanut, and immediately, that putrid, rotten peanut taste infiltrates your mouth, and it's hard to get rid of, even though you spit out the peanut as fast as you can. And that's what I wanted to do. I wanted to spit out that music fast, because it was inside me and it tasted so.... BAD. I was thinking how that cashier tolerated it. How does he listen to that every day, all day without wanting to tear limbs off of customers or beat in his own head with the tape dispenser? I was thinking about the owner of the shop that was sitting there. How could he inflict that on his workers? His customers? And I was wondering about people who could listen to that and think it was okay. And I was thinking about why it was so not okay for me that it was okay for them. It's exactly like people who say they don't like food. What are they, crazy??? It's like people who would rather eat a stale, neglected cheetoh off of a seat on the subway than have a strawberry. Or a fresh cheetoh. You see? There's something wrong with that. I'm against it. I rail against it. Cheetoh is a funny word.
There's a new song on The Friends of Excitement myspace page. It's called "Easy." I did the vocals and lyrics. It's about someone yelling "Chinese!" to me on the street in midtown recently. Or it's about whatever you want it to be. Isn't that nice? Click on Friends of Excitement in our friends area or click here: www.myspace.com/thefriendsofexcitement, also available in the "links" page of this website.
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Posted: Jul 23, 2006
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We've been getting a lot of hits in our guestbook on our website. Mostly people who like to advertise their feel-good wares - nude children and narco, novasc, ophendimetrazine, phetermine, propecia, reductil, sibutramin, sildenafil. I think they're making it up. They're making up ailments so that they can sell very specific drugs with fancy names. It's a good trick. They want you to complicate your life with different kinds of drugs instead of the cure-all whiskey after work or various other escapes like watching a movie or Jerry Springer or emotionally abusing someone you love or shopping. One of my major forms of escape is the Duane Reade. A new lipstick and some ziplock bags (Duane Reade brand) can give me a new outlook on life. Actually, I change my mind. There are so many different ways to feel bad, we probably do need sibutramin. Most of us stick with the generic I'm depressed because my parents abused me or I feel bad because my parents were too good to me and I didn't deserve it, or I feel bad because I feel alone and disconnected from other human beings and life in general and I wish I was never born. But there are a lot of variations that I'm not thinking of at the moment.
So Jay Whalen is with us right now, and he's recording Gittleman's bass, because Gittleman can record us, but he can't record himself, and it's nice to have Jay here hearing the things that sound engineers hear and saying things like, "punch in on the command 8. I hear a lot of the string buzz. Want to put the 421 up?" There's a lot to say about Jay, but I'm sworn to secrecy, and I really want to talk about Gittleman.
He's hopped up on the Methyl Prednisolone due to a sneaky and malicious poison ivy. Side effects include "bleeding problems, bruising/bleeding, black stools, vomit that looks like coffee grounds, swelling of ankles/feet, persistent weight gain, thinning skin, slow wound healing, unusual skin growths and seizures." So far, Gittleman hasn't vomited, but he hasn't slept in 2 days. He's washed and waxed the floors of the studio and he had taped a sign to the door saying I had to take off my shoes before entering. All I could hear was the whine of the mini vacuum cleaner. He popped his head up from behind the equipment. He was vacuuming the perimeters of the room. The corners. Everywhere the wall meets the floor. "Psychic derangements may appear when coricosteroids are used, ranging from euphoria, insomnia, mood swings, personality changes, and severe depression to frank psychotic manifestations." And if you're crazy to begin with, just say good-bye.
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Posted: Jun 4, 2006
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Can just getting through a rehearsal be such a feat that you don't even care if you make it to the show; you're like man, that was a damn good rehearsal. I feel like that after yesterday. Katrina of all trades and instruments played her trumpet out her ass. And it sounded good. Mia vamped on new songs with extra reverb on her cello and looked hot to death in her gym shorts that she wore for a workout that never happened. Wade was having fun, but not until Katrina showed him the video of her gay dogs humping and a vagina on the the hood of a VW beetle. It's one of the laws of the universe. Force = mass X acceleration and porn cheers you up. Wade is not beyond that. Not at all. Charles brought a lot of sex with him as well, which exploded on that tamborine. Gittleman did the honors of the last line of Whipping Post and gifted everyone with nice mic levels and more reverb and took us out to see Mike Kneilly, his favorite guitar player besides Wade. Bret looked like hell. He had raccoon trauma from earlier in the day. He didn't think there were any raccoons in Brooklyn until he met the one climbing the fire escape of his building. He came home and it had crawled through the window and had tried on his clothes and was sitting on the couch, drinking a beer and watching TV. Everybody thought that was real funny but him.
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Posted: May 15, 2006
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Last night we played at Crossroads Cafe. It is not a hole in the wall. It is a pleasant sliver of a room right in front of the Fort Hamilton Subway entrance. So while we played, sometimes I could see commuters about to go down for the subway and they would look over and nod their heads. I saw one woman seriously getting down on her way down for the F train. I felt flattered and somehow a little embarrassed, because of the way this woman was grinding and swishing; I don't know. Actually, one of 4 audience members that night also dances this way. She was the only mom at our Mother's Day show last night. She looks like an unassuming white woman with nice skin and pretty hair. When she gets on the dance floor though, watching her she makes you blush. I felt like that last night watching this happy commuter woman give me "Go girl!" faces through the window.
Other faces we saw that night: Gittleman said when he started singing in Spanish during Balkan Love Slave, the Latin cafe staff all looked at him like he was an idiot. I didn't notice because I don't sing in Spanish on that song. Instead I told a story about my mom and how she used to chase me around with the stick end of a short broom ("Suh deh backi" in Korean; the dreaded suh deh backi). And Gittleman's mom used to smack him with the back of a frying pan (she's French and a really great cook). God knows we deserved all those beatings and more. Happy Mother's Day. God bless every one.
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Posted: May 15, 2006
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Once when I was 2 years old, my mom locked me in the closet for being bad, which is kind of unfair since I was born that way. She felt really guilty though when I pressed my head to the floor and called out to her from the space between the floor and the closet door, "Mommy, I'm sorry; please let me out."
I'm sure I'll be hearing a lot of that if I ever have children.
Also, when I was fourteen I told my mom I was having this recurring nightmare that felt like someone was squishing me and I couldn't move even though I could open my eyes and so was "technically" awake. She told me that was really bad because it meant I was being possessed by a demon.
Thanks mom. That demon was rock and roll.
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Posted: Apr 6, 2006
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Musicians are really needy I think. Musicians and actors. They're always passing out postcards and sending out emails begging people for stuff. Like their time and attention. I'm not proud of it. I always think people must get really sick of being asked to do something. Come here. Come to the show. Lose sleep to pay attention to me. Look, look, look. It's revolting. It's not in my nature. I swear to god. How the hell did I get here? I broke up with a boyfriend once because I couldn't stop begging; I finally realized what makes a beggar - they never get what they want.
I didn't learn my lesson by any means after that break-up. I got right back on my feet after a couple months of crying and fell in love again. And the only way I stayed with him for the 3 years we were together was I held on to his leg and begged him not to leave me as he dragged me across the floor trying to get away. A complete lack of shame and no standards will keep a relationship going for a long time.
I think they should get rid of superfluous holidays like Valentine's Day and Christmas and replace with a new holiday where everyone gets to take a break from begging. One day of not asking for anything and just feeling what it's like to have what you got. Wow, I guess Duane Reade wouldn't make any money off this one. Isn't that the rule for holidays? It's only a holiday if the whole Duane Reade is decorated in it. Have What You Got Day probably wouldn't stand a chance. That's okay. I'm always in for lost causes.
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Posted: Mar 6, 2006
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I was thinking on the train this morning about writing songs and how silly it is. My mom's a pharmacist and a Jehovah's Witness, and I remember her talking about her work and how she double checks the nurses when they ask for crazy amounts of drugs for infants or if the calculations look wrong, and she'll confront ill-mannered doctors in her imperfect English ("you know, I have accent; I don't care") to make sure the right amounts of the right drugs are administered if things look fishy like someone didn't take the time to get the details right. She takes great pains and responsibility for the work that she does, and I finally understood the connection between her work and her love of god and people. Making sure people don't get killed or brain damaged by improper dosages is her way of actively demonstrating her love.
And so I thought about being hungover yesterday and driving to the studio and shoving a sandwich in my mouth from Jimmy's, instead of from the stark and fashionable organic cafe where they're so in the moment and not harming the planet that apparently, they can't even serve you if you've been standing and standing in line waiting to order your blue algae and young coconut milk smoothy while he attends to every whim of someone in front of you whose soho-y sunglasses and dredlocks and un-urgent low-speaking makes him seem like a musician who doesn't have the unsightly day job. And Gittleman and Bret and I took pains to make sure levels in the yet to be named song was where we wanted them. And I pressed buttons while Gittleman recorded his bass, and things aren't perfect, but it's not like anyone's going to die. I don't know what I'm saying. But the point is, writing songs just seems really funny. What a weird thing to do. And it takes a lot of energy, and I can't do it without sitting there for a really long time wading through seas of my own lameness which is not really fun at all. But what the hell else would I do? I hate travelling. And most people are confounding and annoying (it's in our nature, we can't help it). So what the hell, you've got to do something.
Whoo hoo. That's Monday morning train thoughts for you. On the other hand, I saw "Trapped in the Closet" last night. Genius. Makes you wish every moment of your life was an R&B opera written and sung by RKelly. Oh why not, god; why not.
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Posted: Feb 6, 2006
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I think the key to posting recordings on a website is having no shame. None at all. I'm getting lots of practice in fighting ancestral perfectionism, and these are works in progress what with Gittleman's new sound set up in the studio (we'll be recording everything over again). I can't get over how low my standards can go. Jesus, at this rate, I'll have none in no time.
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Posted: Feb 3, 2006
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We're mixing tonight. Gittleman's sound system is better than ever now and you can hear things you never heard before which is great sometimes, but not so great other times, because you can hear every little thing that's wrong and it's like having a magnifying glass for imperfection, which is not for the faint of heart, meaning not for me. I remember when I was recording with Murderizer, the guys were all in the booth listening to me sing, and I told them it was like being in the gynecologist's stirrups with that steely speculum up your hoo ha and you're all pried open and then the doctor invites the nurses and a couple medical students in to view your insides. Of course they didn't get it.
We'll have more songs up soon. We're mixing tonight, did I mention?
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Posted: January 6, 2006
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News. What's news. What's news to me may not be news to you. It should be something you don't know. I bet you didn't know which member of clean & nasty was dismembered.
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