8/29/05 MOMA and Mediocre Music

Saturday morning I went to MOMA. Heather gets free passes because she works for AM EX. I wasn’t feeling the greatest, which impeded my ability to enjoy the artwork. Although the Dali sculpture with the loaf of bread is ALWAYS inspiring. I think looking at great art re-wires your brain a little bit. It makes me want to break from the mundane and think more freely.

I seemed to be attracted to the ugliest and most jarring works. The Rauschenberg stuff and the Jasper Johns stuff affected me. Pollack’s giant canvases are impressive. They’re like separate worlds that you can sink into.

Saturday night we went to the North Sixth club. A local hot-spot for indie rock bands in swingin’ Williamsburg. The top room was sold out so we paid $8 each to go into the downstairs lounge. When I walked down the steps I was surprised to see a tiny little room with 8 folding chairs against the wall. The stage was tiny and the whole place was grimy and run down. The performer was a guy with a folk guitar playing along with tracks from his iPod. He was from Texas and touring the Northeast. Except from Heather and I the only people in the audience were his girlfriend and two buddies.

He had a beefy voice and sang re-re-hashed emo and grunge type lyrics. Not a bit of creativity anywhere to be found. What made the situation uncomfortable was that if we left his entire audience was gone. Pretty tough we you came all the way from Texas. And he was trying to work the crowd (IE: us) talking to us personally from the stage. But mediocrity should not be encouraged and after three painful tunes we snuck out the back. Sometimes it’ shard not to give up on rock and roll there is so much boring crap out there.
Everyone wants to be an artist, and creativity and originality are not in vogue. It’s all about imitating those who make the big money.

On my way out I ran into my friend Steve Koester (A singer songwriter of a high caliber) and his wife. Steve was pretty wasted. I asked him how the music biz was treating him and he responded drying, “ I am unbelievably wealthy.” Midwestern irony always resonates with me.

This morning I was posting an old piece of writing to some writer’s groups online. The piece was called The Mall Of America and was from the Apology writing. When I read it I was confronted with some harsh facts. At that time I had such a strong sense of destiny. I was surrounded by excitement and energy. Like the Blues Brothers I felt I was on a mission from God. It’s amazing how far I’ve fallen from that time. I wish I knew how to recapture that focus. Sometimes it seems only violent upheaval will do the trick. After all, at that time I was living in a car.