Thursday, July 27, 2006

Warrior Bones.

OK. I'm about to swear a lot. Love me anyway.

Sometimes something way beyond magic happens in this city. Fuck limiting it to magic though. This shit is just beyond. Way, way, way beyond.

Last night I went to see Swoon play at R&R. They were sweet. They were good. They were nicely twisted. I chatted with Minnie and crew for a bit after the show, but I really had to get home.

On my way out I heard a song coming from the main floor that demanded my attention. I walked into a room full of people watching a riveting video by a singer/songwriter/seismic fucking event I had never even heard of. I turned around to a woman behind and said, "Oh, my God. Who is this?" "Tamar-Kali," she said with a knowing look that said, "Good luck you poor sod. You're going to be picking your ass up off the floor in about two minutes." She was right.

When the video finished Tamar-Kali took the stage and she brought Nona Hendryx, nûs, St. Vitus, Carcass, Betty Davis, Material, Bad Brains, Led Zeppelin, Nina Simone, and Buckethead/ODB through the door with her. Then she turned around, kicked them all hard, and said . . . "This is my show, fuckers. Go. I'll be juuuuuust fine." She proceeded to lead her devastating band into one of those churning instrumental burns that gets everybody ready to walk through fire. As soon as she started to sing I got chills, and by the middle of the song I was in tears (Hell. I got tears in my eyes just thinking about the show on the way home.). Everything was open and I knew it. I wasn't going home. I was already there.

Her performance only got more potent, more dangerous, more transformative, more fucking galvanizing as it went on. One of the songs she played was Warrior Bones, and like any warrior Tamar-Kali left nothing behind. The bones weren't hers though. They were mine. Absolutely crushed.


Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.


Mark said...

ur such a fucking poet!

Heart As Arena said...

Heh-heh. Fucking right.

Joes Sister said...

I will even go so far as to say "You are" such an effing poet... lucky to know beautiful you. thanks for sharing...

libby said...

A lace hanky award to mr. bb. The only guy i know who cries as much as you do is Murray--but not for music or art. He's partial to tv dramas, sitcoms, and movies. When he and Minna get together to watch something, a giant lace sheet is required.