the Untitled.

If you’re awake and bored, flip on your local PBS affiliate. The Jeff Beck tribute to Les Paul that I was in the audience for last summer is on. And it rocks just as much as I remember it did. Unfortunately, I was behind the camera farthest from the stage in the very back of the already tiny and cramped Iridium Jazz club in New York, so there’s less than no shot of seeing me, but know that I was there!

EDIT: QUICK QUICK TURN IT ON HE’S PLAYING PETER GUNN!

David Bowie Almost Walked Into Me.

Last night I bailed on Rent rehearsals at Dobbs Ferry High School to go to Iridium Jazz Club on 51st and Broadway in Maaaaaaanhattan.

It’s ok, Rent was fine without me. And I’m pretty sure I had the better time.

Iridium, for those of you who are unaware, is a basement club, no bigger than forty feet by forty feet. Seats about 100, stands a few more. Tiny little place. And also for those of you who are unaware, last night Jeff Beck played there.

So there I am, standing no more than 30 feet from the stage, and I look around to see who’s in the audience. It was a birthday show for Les Paul (who died last year) so certainly some important people would be showing up. David Fricke, Rolling Stone writer, was there. Brian Setzer was there. Gary “U.S.” Bonds was there.

And then, I shit you not, David Fucking Bowie and Iman walked directly in front of me. The Thin White Duke nearly bumped in to me. Ziggy Stardust, minus the spiders from Mars, was all up in my personal space. What? Yes. But then, like some sort of otherworldly apparition, he was gone. I have no idea where he disappeared to (he probably teleported out of there, now that I think about it) but I blinked as he walked away and he was gone.

The rest of the night was spent listening to Jeff Beck tear apart a whole bunch of old Jazz standards and pop tunes from the 1930’s through 50’s, as sort of a tribute to Les Paul. This was very cool, because as those of you who are familiar with British Invasion rock & roll know, everyone from that era idolized Les. The guy invented the solidbody electric guitar! And Jeff Beck usually plays way different stuff. He’s known for being all kinds of heavy and ‘prog rocky’, so to hear him do this stuff was awesome. He was still Jeff Beck though- it was like some kind of strange mashup.

You all can see it probably around Christmas on your local PBS affiliate. In addition to David Bowie and everyone else in the audience, in this tiny room, we had to snake our way around seven cameras and a huge ProTools rig in the back. I got interviewed in the line outside for the DVD, so watch for me!

It was an amazing night, made even cooler by the people I got to watch the show with. Of course, my dad scored the tickets from a contact at Jeff’s record label, but while there we met Sid McGinnis, guitarist for Dave Letterman’s band, and Jim Weider, guitarist for Levon Helm of The Band and all-around Telecaster God. They were just standing in the back with the rest of us, and couldn’t have been nicer guys. This means I’m now four for nine as far as meeting members of Letterman’s band go.

It was an awesome show, great night, and I can’t wait to see the final cut.

david bowie ghost stories

fuckyeahslightlyamusing:

maryinstereo:

A few years ago, a mother and father decided they needed a break, so they wanted to head out for a night on the town. They called their most trusted babysitter. When the babysitter arrived, the two children were already fast asleep in bed. So the babysitter just got to sit around and make sure everything was okay with the children. Later that night, the babysitter got bored and went to watch TV, but she couldn’t watch it downstairs because they did not have cable downstairs (the parents didn’t want children watching too much garbage).

So, she called them and asked them if she could watch cable in the parent’s room. Of course, the parents said it was okay, but the babysitter had one final request… she asked if she could cover up the David Bowie statue outside the bedroom window with a blanket or cloth, at the very least close the blinds, because it made her nervous. The phone line was silent for a moment, and the father who was talking to the babysitter at the time said, “Take the children and get out of the house… we will call the police. We do not have a David Bowie statue.”

All of a sudden an electric guitar cut through the air. “KEEP YOUR ‘LECTRIC EYES ON ME BABE!” howled a voice from outside. The babysitter dropped the phone and ran to the window. “David Fucking Bowie!” she screamed, watching the statue as it came to life, shredding chords on its electric guitar. “Put your ray gun to my heeeeeead!” The babysitter ran the children outside where they watched an impromptu Bowie concert that was so awesome that afterwards the children had sweet dreams forever more and the babysitter was given a bonus for her efforts.