London!

I have been doing so many heavy blogs and I want to lighten it up a little, so this one is gonna be mostly a what-I-did-this-September report. I hope it won’t be too boring!

I took a trip with Wendigo/Art on A founder Wendy Scripps and artist Jozie Lovestar to London last month to organize a show of Jozie’s photographs in the Sanctum Soho Hotel. Honestly, I was a bit resistant because I have been traveling a lot this year; I have been lucky to have traveled a decent amount in my life and have visited London many times, either visiting friends, playing shows or staying with boyfriends during the Anglophile period of my dating life. Although the one I ended up with there for a time, Slam Thunderhide of Zodiac Mindwarp and the Love Reaction, was actually Canadian. Side-story–he’s an awesome guy but his ex-wife hated me so much she told everyone years later that I died of AIDS in full dementia. Which I think is pretty hilarious; I appreciate a creative diss.

Anyhoo, now it’s many years later and I found myself back there, this time under much more lavish circumstances and in a more adult (ish) state of mind. Honestly, I think the first class flight would have been enough for me. I was way more excited than was appropriate. My top favorite things in life are free stuff, laying around, eating, and drinking, and that’s exactly what you’re given. I sat happily in the airport VIP lounge waiting for someone to get wise and throw me out, then laid in my little compartment on the plane under a comfy blanket with a pillow behind my head watching free movies while women in cute red skirts came around every five seconds to fling free champagne and food in my direction. If someone could have thrown a cat into the mix they would have had to drag me off.

The Sanctum Soho is a gorgeous hotel and the staff is lovely in the way that only an international staff can be. Did you know that cool people in England don’t use washcloths? They call them flannels and our gorgeous, hip, gay, fabulous concierge actually giggled when I asked him for one. Who doesn’t love a giggling gay concierge?

I should have taken photos in the room but our stuff was everywhere so I didn’t bother. Here’s a dresser that I wanted to remember though:

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Here are a couple of real photos of the place so you can a better idea. It’s a very rock and roll hotel…

The show, which was really a party, went well. We had some large pieces and this project entaile having a giant wooden crate custom built, like the kind you see in movies about museums, then packing the art with a mountain of bubble wrap, then hiring a freight company to fly it overseas. And then everything got stuck in customs and I had to fill out endless amounts of confusing paperwork and then the actual day of the opening we were told the artwork would be coming the NEXT day. I considered having a meltdown and then decided, eh fuck it, it’s art, we’re not doing hurricane rescue or heart operations. In the end did it matter? But I did talk the powers that be into speeding it up and the art arrived that afternoon and went up on the walls in the nick of time. Here’s an extremely unflattering photo of me unwrapping art before I sat down to order more scones with clotted cream.

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My dear and generous friend Jyrki 69 flew over from Finland to DJ for us, and my other dear friend Storm Large happened to be able to get into town too, so we all stayed in the same hotel and room hopped. Or at least I did, consuming their booze and digging through their toiletries for perfume samples. Other friends showed up for the party, people I haven’t seen in decades, and that was really special: Finnish guitarist extradinaire Timo Kaltio, bass playing legend Dave Tregunna, legendary tattoo artists Sean Vasquez and his beautiful wife Leticia Molera Vasquez plus assorted hot fetish model chicks and awesome people I never get to see because we live on other continents.

So whew! That was a lot, but fun, and the rest of the trip we could relax. We were right near Carnaby Street…

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…so I picked up some overpriced but properly fitting mod shirts for Sam to stem the flow of his constant purchasing of overlarge old lady smocks on Poshmark…

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Jozie is a fitness trainer and she looks like this:

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So annoying, right? She also has a book out right now:

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I know a good thing when I see it, so I was as ready as my lazy ass could be to get in some training time with her.  We found an uber gay gym nearby where the house music is always pumping, all the men are Italian and and appear to work out constantly. It was ridiculous and so much fun. She flirted with the boys in tight shorts while simultaneously beating the crap out of me. Jozie always makes working out entertaining.

I had dinner at the uber British Wosely with my friend Paul Wassif  (yet another super talented and great-looking musician) who I hadn’t seen in person since the 80’s. My phone was nonworking overseas and I have a terrible sense of direction, so no matter how simple the trip I would photograph a map when wifi was available and then walk staring intently at the photo in a neurotic I’m-gonna-get-lost panic.

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It was one of the high points of the trip for me, humming and walking leisurely through the streets of London by myself, looking in windows and up at buildings. It’s such a beautiful city and so different from NYC. Naturally, I forgot to get an actual photo with Paul, just a shot of my martini while waiting for him to arrive…

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It was lovely to be able to catch up as adults as we were both pretty messy in our younger years and didn’t part on the easiest of terms. I love being able to revisit and feel you get a bit of a do-over with someone, which seems to be a major theme in my life, always hoping to do things better the next time around. So thank you, Paul.

Then it was time for Jyrki to head back to the land of Finns. He said we were having brunch but it turned out to be primarily a ruse to drag me by the elbow at breakneck speed through the streets and pubs of Soho before he got on his plane.

This is me, unamused at the prospect of a) drinking so early in the day and b) being photographed while half asleep:

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Jyrki and his very patient cab driver:

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And then it was back on the plane for me. I ordered the dessert this time in order to be sure to completely wipe out all of Jozie’s hard work.

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It is a lovely life and I’m grateful.

Namaste, bitches!

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Freedom

I’m still a little unsure of my footing on what to write here so the entries have continued to be sporadic. But I’m closer to being on track.

First reason for hesitation is that it feels petty to write about my middle-class white girl rock and roll spiritual journey when there is so much heaviness happening everywhere. The other reason is that the last couple of years were so difficult and complicated that I wasn’t sure how much I could state publicly without invading other people’s privacy.

Now I am moving forward and leaving the past behind and it feels amazing. And I know in my gut is that spirit is a area where we can foster deep, if less immediately obvious change. So as I learn more about my own personal growth, I feel an urge to tell my friends in the hope that in some small way it can help them. And then maybe our happiness and wisdom will osmosis into the world. So that’s what I will continue to write about until other inspirations hit me. I don’t care about having a huge blog following, this has always been primarily about entertaining and connecting to friends and like-minded souls.

But first, let’s have a photo of my cat, because I find him amusing and I think you should too. He is currently suffering due to the overly warm temperature in my apartment. I’m sitting in front of the computer in my underwear, too lazy to get up and shut all the windows and turn on the AC. He knows that if he looks as tragic as possible I’ll relent and get off my ass to arrange his ultimate comfort.

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Note the glazed eyes of suffering. He’s his mother’s son. #highdramaatalltimes

I’ve been traveling a lot lately. This summer I had a golden opportunity to be a guest at Canyon Ranch, which is a high end resort spa in Massachusetts. I ran amuck while there, in the best way possible: massages and facials and squirreling free tampons and razors and meditating under trees and ordering more food than anyone should. Most importantly I got some therapeutic energy work, which was recommended by a clairvoyant I saw there who stated most emphatically that I could use a tune-up. Her assessment was that while I am personally grounded, the city creates a static around all of us that needs to be cleared.

I’ve had reiki but this was a bit different, so I didn’t know what to expect. I met with a lovely woman who permeated calm and warmth. She had me lay on a massage table and proceeded, for the next hour and a half, to put her hands my legs or arms, meditate for a while, then make some stunningly on point statement about my life and headspace.

Some highlights:

Her: “Do you do a lot of vocalizing? Or do you have a lot of loud sounds coming into your ears?”
Me: “Um…do decades of screeching into microphones and standing too close to speakers count?”
Her: “Yep. That would explain the tear in your throat chakra. Let’s fix it.”

Then she would sit quietly for another 10 minutes or so, repairing or sorting, whatever one does when clearing another person’s energy field.

She looked up at one point and gave me a rundown of my relationship with my mother that was so accurate it nearly knocked me off the table. Yikes! Then she sat for a while and took a deep breath and said, “I keep hearing the words, ‘I’m sorry.”

I burst into the dreaded burning tears that were always hovering near the surface. You have no idea, lady. Or I guess you do. How do you explain without blubbering all over a stranger that you’ve been walking around for two years with that mantra chugging like a train in your head? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, over and over and over again, waking, sleeping, a constant, desperate prayer for forgiveness? I tried to suck it up. She handed me a tissue and said kindly, “Let’s clear that out too.”

I walked out from her office feeling emotionally drained and 100 lbs lighter. And that relief has grown. It’s as if the quality of light in the air is different now: brighter, sharper. While some of that probably has to do with the simple passage of time, whatever the reason, I can see clearly now the rain is gone. I finally pulled Drew off of his pedestal and picked myself off my bloody knees.

This is the lesson that I’m getting: sometimes our souls push us to do things that we might not understand intellectually, that others might not understand, but that are necessary to hurtle us forward. Sometimes we get blasted out of our comfort and find ourselves in a mess that takes a long time to clean up. It doesn’t make us bad people. We all experience so much shame and sadness over our perceived failures and losses. Change is grubby, painful, unwelcome, but sometimes mistakes and destruction are  necessary to shift.

I have been forced to face myself and forgive myself. I feel a gentleness toward myself now that I never did before. I’m so far from perfect but that’s true of all of us.

Onward and upward. Here’s the rundown.

I am ready to have more nature in my life and I love going to see my family in Michigan every summer. I took Sam with me this time, or rather he and Storm flew out for the last 4-5 days of the trip. It was heavy because I always considered my family and home Drew’s as well. I never expected that to change. But Drew doesn’t want anything to do with it anymore, which is his prerogative. Sam was brave to step into that space and he did great. We babysat foster kittens and swam and ate too much and got close in ways that we hadn’t before. It was nice to get out of the rock and roll context and just be people for a little while.


Our relationship is a strange one. The age difference is so vast that our priorities are naturally different. We both know that eventually things will have to change. He has a lot to experience yet, mistakes to make on his own and out from under my protection, and I expect I’ll be ready for a more equal partner at some point. It’s sad but it’s not. He entered into my life to help me shift, to cushion some blows, and there is nothing but love on either side. We’ll always be close in whatever form it takes. For now it’s day by day with a consciousness toward being gentle with one another.

As I relax into myself, I am feeling the vibrations around me more clearly, and am more conscious of how my thoughts help create the nature of that vibrational energy. Which means that if I want to feel good, I have to choose thoughts that keep me in a higher frequency. This is tough to do sometimes because I love being shitty and my go-to defense is anger. I enjoy talking shit and being pissed off; it keeps me from feeling vulnerable. But I’m working to catch myself when I start down that spiral. It doesn’t mean I have to go all Pollyanna or lie to myself about my happiness levels. But it helps to ask, “Is this a thought process that is going to raise my energy or bring me down?” If it’s the latter, I try to let it go for the day.

Upcoming:

I’m headed to London in September to help Wendigo host a gallery show at the Sanctum Soho hotel. This is going to be extra fun because my good friend Jyrki 69 is flying in to join.

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I’m also working to organize the second leg of the Dirty Sweet Sounds Tour, in October, on the East Coast.

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I’m not traveling with the bands this time. Last time in LA was enough. Especially after I woke up and found this in my bed.

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I am ready to adopt a new dog, so I’m looking around for a tiny jerk in need that I can take to work with me. I desperately want a Papillon, which isn’t easy to find via rescue, so if anyone sees a stray Pap wandering the mean streets, drop me a line.

You might notice there are ads around the blog now. It’s a little unsightly but if I can make a buck or two on here I am not opposed. If it doesn’t make a difference I’ll remove them.

So that’s the story for now. Not super entertaining but I’m counting this blog as a clear marker between the past and the future. It’s only gonna get better from here and I’ll have lots of fun stories for you coming up.

Much love to all of you who have extended so much kindness and support.

Namaste, bitches.

 

 

Shooting Star

I try to avoid eulogizing NYC too much any more. We all know that the flavor has been priced and railroaded out of town by developers and that our version of the city disappeared as we changed and grew older. But change is the only constant, nothing stays the same and even if there was some kind of underground scene now, we would hate it because it’s not ours. There probably is, all those young guys with waxed old-timey mustaches must be hanging out with those droopy, skinny young girls with weird mullet cuts and no makeup somewhere, listening to something, I guess drinking craft beer and talking about getting DJ gigs “just for fun”. We see them and we think, “Yech.” They see us and they think, “Dinosaurs.”

It’s fine. I don’t hate all of them. My boyfriend Sam is a millennial too, albeit a strange one who loves my heyday more than his own. My friend overheard two girls his age talking, one said, “Yeah, he’s cute but don’t bother. He likes old ladies.” That made us chuckle. But it’s somewhat true, and he reminds me of what it is to be that young and to still be sorting out exactly who you are and who you want to be. It’s not easy and I too have liked and worn some stupid things along the way. Circle of life and all that crap.

So after years of emotional struggle, I accept where we’re at, at least culturally. I know I probably have a few more years in the city and then I’ll retire on a farm with Storm somewhere, where we will collect too many animals, sleep alone in our bedrooms, get drunk on the porch while reminiscing, and casually ogle the younger neighbors when we go into town for groceries.

But I digress…

Rock shows are sparsely attended for the most part, bands go on much earlier because the fans are older, people have day jobs and/or kids to attend. Many of my peers, often the ones who complain the most, won’t go to a show even if they do have the time. They wear it like a badge of geriatric honor, “Oh, I don’t go out anymore…” I do, though in a different, less frenetic manner. I still like the hand I have in it; my jobs allow me to work on the back end of the music world and I still get to see some of my old friends and hear live music. That’s enough every couple of weeks or so, and I’m usually home by 1 am no matter who is playing. I need my rest.

On Friday I was honored to be able to host the Elyse Steinman memorial gig at Wham Bam Raff and Sam, our weekly happy hour party. Greg Stryzempka flew in from Washington, he and Alec Morton put a ton of work and love into making it happen, and we got a bona fide Raging Slab gig, with Alec at his bass post, Greg playing guitar and Elyse’s slide guitar, Mark Middleton on guitar, Bob Pantanella and Paul Sheehan switching off on drums, with special guests on songs Daniel Rey, Tom Five (who flew in from LA for it), Liza Colby, and Pamela Grande.

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I remember the first time I saw Raging Slab at Danceteria in the mid-80’s. I was setting up the bar before opening and Greg was soundchecking onstage with his super long hair and tan/brown clothes. This wasn’t fully the norm yet, we were all still looking pretty goth at that point. He laughed and joked into the mic and then Elyse got up with him and they played with an ease and talent that caused me to pause what I was doing. Again, different than what we were listening to at the time, a portent of what was to come.

And then things blew up in the best way possible and our army of leather took over the East Village and there were amazing shows every night and we all got record deals and rock and roll was king and/or queen. Those were the days my friend, we thought they’d never end.

Joey Ramone Tour Bus

All these years later I walked into another soundcheck and saw Greg and Alec onstage and immediately burst into tears. I wasn’t expecting such a visceral reaction; I had to leave the room to pull myself together. I thought I’d become immune. But it felt so good to see Greg up there, and so poignant that Elyse wasn’t next to him that I felt overwhelmed with both joy and sadness. My heart swelled with the ache of it.

I had to rush around to set up the bar and was busy with customers and friends as soon as I opened for business. I am taking a break from alcohol for a few weeks and I felt anxious and crabby because there wasn’t time or space to fully process the emotions running through me or alternatively anesthetize with a shot or two. I am glad I weathered it sober though, because it allowed me to be present and to take it all in.

Once Slab hit the stage I couldn’t stay behind the bar. I tried, but it was too hard to focus on anything but the music. I pushed my way through the small crowd in the small room to the front of the small stage, and my old CSFH bandmate Vas Kallas (Venus P. Crusher), along with all of our friends, headbanged and danced and shouted the choruses. I had tears in my eyes the entire time and we hugged each other and screamed as if we were in an arena instead of a bar.

The songs sounded so good, SO good. Not just because they are the songs of our youth, but because our youth was full of really, really great songs and performers. I haven’t forgotten my past, I spend a lot of time answering Sam’s questions and telling him inside stories about what happened “back then”. But I’ve also had to put it in the back of my mind. It was like seeing someone years later that you were madly in love with who broke your heart. You put them behind you because you have to, but your cells never forget.

What a force we were: an army of talented idiots in hair dye and rock and roll gear, even with our inner skirmishes and ego-battles, infidelities and competitions, always united in our otherness and our music. We were all gonna be rock stars. And we were, even if most of the world doesn’t know or remember. We were all beautiful, that time was magical, and although we look like ordinary middle aged people to the rest of the world, we still have that magic within us. So I cried for the loss of a comrade, for the loss of my youth, and for the sheer joy of being able to step back into it for a moment with some of the people who experienced it too.

The last song of the set was a cover of Bad Company’s “Shooting Star”. Everyone sang along and it filled up the room with its beauty and we all felt Elyse dancing with us, her photos taped to the walls smiling and encouraging, the song so perfectly for her. At the end of it we all put our hands in the air and looked to the ceiling, to the sky, to her and shouted, “We love you, Elyse!”

Thank you for bringing us together one more time, Darling. You are very much loved and missed.

Elyse

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Comb-over, Do-over

I work out a lot of stuff while I’m sleeping. I’m not one of those people that can sleep for ten-twelve hours, but I cherish the eight hours I do get, time willing. Sleep is underrated as a therapeutic tool. Real sleep, not pass-out after a night of drinking or a quick six hours before the alarm rings for work.

My father died when I was young and there were a lot of things left unsaid and unhealed. There wasn’t time and I was too immature to understand the issues left dangling. Over the years he visited me in dreams many times. We talked and he listened and after a while I understood him and myself much better. I no longer felt quite so hurt or haunted by his passing. I felt grateful and connected to him. This could just be my subconscious helping me out, or it could have really been him stopping by when I was in a state to be able to receive. I believe it was the latter, but I don’t care either way. Healing is healing and I’ll take whatever I can get to move forward.

Because we are not speaking and there is a lot of grief to process, I have dreamed about Drew every night for months. Sometimes in the dreams we’re experiencing day to day activities, most of the time we are arguing about our split. Sometimes I’m talking and he can’t hear me. Sometimes I can see him but he can’t see me. Sometimes I’m so mad or sad I wake up with a start, shaking, or with tears in my eyes. It’s not fun, but I understand myself well enough to know that sleep is helping me process in ways that I can’t always do when waking. I let it go as best I can, get out of bed and get on with my day, which is generally full of enough love and laughter that I forget to be disturbed for too long. 

This week I dreamed that I was explaining to some faceless stranger, for the hundredth time, what happened. I was saying, “I just wasn’t doing well. I was crazy, I was bad, I didn’t mean to cause so much damage, it’s all my fault…” And my own voice interrupted this terrible litany that has worn a groove in my brain and said, “This is not your story. Why are you telling it?”

I woke up immediately, stunned.

It’s so simple. We decide something about ourselves and we tell it over and over again as if it is the only truth, as if it is the reality and breadth and depth of who we are. It isn’t. It’s just the story we choose to tell ourselves and others.

Our stories are formed by things we believe about ourselves that were once true but might no longer be, or were perpetrated on us by others, or are things we want other people to believe.

One of mine is that I’m crazy and as such am unlovable. So I spend all my time trying to prove that I’m normal, whatever that even is, and as soon as a crack appears, which, lets face it, is often, I suffer major anxiety while scrambling for damage control. My other favorite story is that I only deserve love if I give everything and expect nothing, which eventually leads me back to the first story. I give too much of myself with diminishing returns, eventually becoming so drained and hurt that I over react explosively to something small, thus appearing crazy. And then of course I get to tell myself that I’m too angry/volatile/demanding to deserve the love in the first place. Lather, rinse, repeat.

It’s a tad circular.

These stories we tell ourselves are one reason that people get sick:  “I am old now; it is time for me to deteriorate.”

Alone: “There is no one out there for me to date.” “All men are terrible.” “I will never get over my divorce.”

Miserable: “I am doomed to stay in a job I loathe because I am not smart or creative enough to learn or do anything else.”

On and on. These stories are lies. Or at the very least they are half-truths. They are not the summation and depth of who we are. These stories are the reason that people continue to dress or do their makeup the way they did thirty years ago. These stories are responsible for bald comb-overs. We carry these shitty stories from home to home, job to job, relationship to relationship like lead weights in suitcases with broken wheels.

 

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As mentioned constantly, I am a huge fan of Dr. Christiane Northrup and she talks quite a bit about the aging process and how the mind-body connection affects our health and well-being, often more profoundly than genetic predisposition.

Paraphrasing here, but the gist is that Dr. Northrup says that she no longer tells anyone her age, because that number writes a story for the person telling it–how they are supposed to look, behave, and feel. Then when that number is expressed to others, those same others help enforce the truth of that story. When she has to write her birth year on documents she tells herself that number has nothing to do with her. In her head she is 33 years old.

I love this, partially because I’m vain, but primarily because I like the idea of having more power of choice over our own life story than we are accustomed to wielding. It’s half Baby Jane, half creating a new destiny for body and soul. If that seems like too much magical thinking, maybe it could be simply creating a new mindset so the day seems a little brighter and the nightmares come less often?

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I haven’t had any heavy sadness dreams since those words came to me in my sleep. I still have regrets and coulda woulda shoulda moments, about all kinds of things, but I feel like I discovered a shiny new piece to the puzzle. I am ready to let go of the dialogues that no longer serve me.

I hope this helps some of you as well.

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California Dreamin’

Hey hey!

Things have been great lately, which feels new. And means I haven’t felt driven to bleed out all over the keyboard. But I have this new web address so I’ve gotta get something down.

I was told by someone recently that if it wasn’t for my sense of humor this blog would be self-indulgent baloney. That made me chuckle, because it’s true. The upside to all the pain/change I experienced in 2015 and 2016 is that I am much less worried about poor to middling reviews. It’s my blog so you get what you get. Write what you know–I know the shape and size of my navel.

But today I’m being practical and simply want to let anyone who doesn’t already have me hogging their facebook feed that I’ve been toiling with my pals/co-workers at Wendigo Productions to put together a ten day West Coast tour for the Liza Colby Sound and The Sweet Things. We’re very proud to be working with these two awesome bands and it’s been fun to coordinate everything and everyone–vans, gear, tour manager, flights, hotels, etc. I’ve always enjoyed being on the side of the stage as much as standing up front, maybe more. It’s much easier to show up at door time, wield a clipboard with unwarranted authority, then critique a show from the bar than to be stuck in a van for hours then try to look and sound cute onstage after putting on your makeup and doing a vocal warm-up in a filthy bathroom with broken stall doors and no toilet paper. And beyond that, it’s awfully nice to finally have a paying job that I enjoy.

This is the press release if you’re not familiar with the bands.  I will be in LA from May 18 through May 23. I’m pretending they need me but it’s mostly an excuse to hang out in a city I love. Hit me up!

NEW YORK CITY BANDS THE SWEET THINGS
AND THE LIZA COLBY SOUND LAUNCH WEST COAST TOUR
PROMOTING THEIR WILD STYLE OF ROCK’N’ROLL AND SOUL
The Dirty Sweet Sound Tour Is Presented by Wendigo Productions NY
Ilegal Mezcal Is Sponsoring the May 22nd show in L.A. at Harvard & Stone

April 19, 2017 (New York, NY) – Wendigo Productions NY presents The Dirty Sweet Sound Tour featuring two New York City bands supporting new music releases. The Sweet Things have a two-sided single dropping on May 15th called “Love To Leave/Cocaine Asslicker Blues.” And The Liza Colby Sound have the new track called “My World” also coming out on May 15th. Ilegal Mezcal is sponsoring a special night at Harvard & Stone in Los Angeles on May 22nd.

“The Sweet Things felt a connection with The Liza Colby Sound immediately,” explains guitarist Lorne Behrman. “It was like a pheromone instinct—we sensed we were from the same rock n’ soul DNA – this morphed into a mutual admiration society with both bands inspiring and influencing each other.” Liza records with the band in studio and performs with them onstage.

The Sweet Things call their new single “a slice of ragged Stonesy punk rock.” And Liza Colby testifies “When I sing, I want it to be badass, feminine, empowering, and ooze sexuality. I want to kick mother#$&ers in the face with rock n’ roll.”

The Sweet Things hail from the streets of the East Village and formed the band in 2015. What drew them together was a passion for the Rolling Stones, Johnny Thunders, Izzy Stradlin, old country and blues, and a love of arena rock. Since then the band has shared the bill with artists like the Toilet Boys (sold-out show), Faster Pussycat, The Dead Daisies, been featured on local news channel NY1, had videoed jams with Jyrki 69 that racked-up 13,000 views in four days, and performed at the L.A.M.F. tribute (along side members of Blondie, The Heartbreakers, The Replacements, and The MC5).

The Sweet Things are Dave Tierney (The Sharp Lads), Lorne Behrman (The Dimestore Haloes, L.E.S. Stitches, The Dead Tricks), Sam Hariss (Stiletto), and Darren Fried (Mazard, Tongue). Frequently the band is joined onstage by Liza Colby.

The Liza Colby Sound includes a trio of musicians who have two decades of rock’n’roll experience. These formidable players boast impressive resumes that include working with Ozzy Osbourne, Rick Derringer, Edgar Winter, Raging Slab, Suzanne Vega, Garland Jeffreys, Lenny Kaye, Jim Carroll Band, the Del Fuegos (featuring Dan Zanes), The Paley Brothers, Denis Leary, and Joey Ramone, among other well-known names. These all-stars are also known for scoring music for film and television, most recently contributing to the Denis Leary show Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll.

Beyond her central role in The Liza Colby Sound, Liza has lent her silk and sandpaper vocal stylings to Enrique Iglesias, Denis Leary John Legend, The Gold Setting, Johnny Burgos, The Sweet Things, Chris Rock’s movie Top 5 (which featured her song “It Ain’t Easy”), Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll (she’s the singing voice of Elaine Hendrix). In addition, Liza’s voice has aired on ESPN, VH1, NASCAR, and Sesame Street.

The Liza Colby Sound’s current live line-up features Liza Colby on vocals, Alec Morton on bass, Charlie Roth on drums, Adam Roth on guitar (on the album) and Tom McCaffrey as touring guitar player. In addition to the new single the band has two other releases including, Live (2013), and High Yellow (2011). A new release titled, Let It Happen, is slated for later this year. Influences the band cites include Iggy Pop, Humble Pie, Small Faces, Ike & Tina and Tame Impala.

The Dirty Sweet Sound Tour featuring The Sweet Things & The Liza Colby Sound:

Friday, May 19th at Redwood Bar, Los Angeles, CA w/ Motochrist
Saturday, May 20th at The Pour House in Oceanside, CA
Sunday, May 21st at Alex’s Bar in Long Beach, CA
Monday, May 22nd at Harvard & Stone in Los Angeles, CA sponsored by Ilegal Mezcal
Tuesday, May 23rd at Riley’s Tavern in Bakersfield, CA
Wednesday, May 24th at The Ritz in San Jose, CA
Thursday, May 25th at the Night Light in Oakland, CA
Friday, May 26th at Oberon’s in Ashland, OR
Saturday, May 27th at The Twilight Cafe in Portland, OR
Sunday, May 28th at Victory Lounge in Seattle, WA
Friday, June 2nd at Bowery Electric in New York, NY

Visit The Sweet Things online:
facebook.com/thesweetthingsnyc

Visit The Liza Colby Sound online:
thelizacolbysound.com
facebook.com/thelizacolbysound
Twitter / Instagram @lizacolbysound

For press materials, or to set-up interviews with bands on The Dirty Sweet Sound Tour please contact Fly PR: T. 323-667-1344 E. flypr@flypr.net (Ilka) or E. buzz@flypr.net (Toni) or E. info@flypr.net (Libby).

Full_Tour

PS. Shout out to my guy Sam Hariss, bass player for The Sweet Things, who when asked how he felt about having his girlfriend on the road with his band, said something to the effect of “Totally psyched she’s coming. I’m the same guy on tour that I am at home, so why wouldn’t I be?”

I will try to remember to live stream some bits of the shows on facebook and take non-blurry photos for those of you at home. Don’t be mad if it’s all shots of my feet next to a glass of wine at the hotel pool.

Oh, and PPS. I’ll be working with Alec Morton and Greg Slab on a memorial evening for Elyse Steinman on June 30. Save the date and I’ll post more info as it comes in.

I’ve moved!

Well, virtually anyway. www.raffaelemary.com is the new blog address. I am taking stock of all ways that I have held myself back financially/personally, and one of them is that I’ve never properly monetized the blog as its stats have risen. So here it is.

I apologize to those of you who subscribed to the Blogger site, you’ll have to do it again here.

I also have to go through all the old blogs because the layout got screwed up on some of them in the exporting/importing process.

In the meantime, here’s a cute kitten video so this visit won’t feel completely pointless.

 

Mom Wisdom

I’m back! Kind of.

I had a whole half a blog written about various bits of hate mail I’ve received over the last few months, but I scrapped it. I’ll get to that eventually.

It’s been impossible to fully explain what I’ve been going through for the last year and a half because I haven’t understood it myself: blowing up my life, blowing up Drew’s life, confusion, darkness, drunken excitement, anxiety, guilt, guilt, guilt. Spinning like a kid does looking at the sky and then realizing that I couldn’t stop, the clouds were spinning me, unable to slow down or see or even feel the ground.

The movement is finally slowing enough to begin to feel a modicum of peace. Drew has a new “friend” and is happier and we are talking almost every day in a deeper way than we have in years, and this has freed me to focus on myself and how I got here. I have cried every day for weeks, but it feels more like a burning off of old sadness than a current depression. It’s difficult, painful, but do-able. I’ll get to all that later as well if it seems interesting enough.

In the meantime, this morning I received a most profound, generous, and beautiful letter from my amazing mother that brought with it much clarity. Ordinarily I wouldn’t post something so private, but I think that many of my friends will be able to see themselves in some of what she’s saying. I will also post a link to a radio interview she did if you want to know more about her.

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Mare,

I am being guided to write to you about the childhood things you are trying to clear.

You were always even as a child, very intense, very creative, and very bright.  You did not blindly accept everything but tried to conform because you were the child and I was the parent.  It was apparent early on that you needed structure, and I was still very catholic and could only give you what I knew at that time which was reflected in the structure as I was taught.  This did not resonate with you and so you accumulated a great deal of guilt and confusion over not resonating with what I was telling you. My energy at that time was not your energy, but you tried.  You were a very nice person, but often acted out and still do in defense of yourself and your own feelings– little sensitive girl tried very hard to be something she was told  she should be, but didn’t feel. 

When we carry in cellular memory a lot of some energy, like guilt, it will pop out in all our life experiences because it is right there ready to activate.  Many of your experiences of late have caused it to the surface as the easiest emotion to access which in turn then causes you resist and feel like a failure. As you recognize this, you can say; “Oh you again”  and then just move on giving it no power.  True power, needing no defense, comes as we realize who and what we really are, our true nature for it is already within us just awaiting our recognition.

I am very sorry that I caused so much confusion for you growing up.  I was going through a great deal of confusion myself.  My world wasn’t working and it was my journey as well.  I have discovered that we choose our families to be born into that will activate the energies we need to clear.  I came in to a very catholic family in order to move beyond it.  I have memories of being in convents and monasteries.  It was time for me to move on, but when you were little I had not yet done that.

You choose to be my daughter in order to clear and move beyond an energy of superiority brought with you from lifetimes of being privileged. (this is channeled information)

We have balanced each other in many ways.  You opened me to so much especially when I would go to NYC.  You were always polite and kind to me even when I was so out of sinc with where you were. I learned to love all the characters and see how narrow my world had been.  I think I have helped you to understand who and what you really are on deeper levels. 

What you are clearing  now is  the accumulated guilt about who you are in comparison with  some concept of who you think you should be in order to be accepted, spiritual, lovable, a good person etc. etc.  This has been reflected in seeking validation from men, from friends etc.  Real validation can only come from self.   When a person realizes that they already are that which they seek– perfect manifestation of Divine Consciousness, the need to defend, explain, protect etc. the small sense of self just dissolves.

We all seek love and acceptance because that is what we are made of, but each can only seek according to the level of their state of consciousness. You sought it in drinking, partying, affairs, etc. thinking that these old solutions would work, but you are in a new place now, becoming aware that these things are outgrown defense mechanisms.  

You are right where you are supposed to be.  This is a graduation, a shift into a new and higher state of consciousness in which you can be yourself and feel good about it.  We can never lose who and what we are, with all our talents and individuality, it all just shifts to higher and better forms.

I hope this helps you understand what is going on right now.  I love you very much.  When you were a baby I used to just sit and look at you, such a beautiful child.  It is time for you to love you as well.

Lots of love,
Mom


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If you want to know more, this is a radio interview she did a few years back.


Gratitude, gratitude.
Hope this summer finds you healthy and happy my friends.