I've come home, this time, i know i'm staying.
But it doesn't change the feeling i get the minute i walk in the door--that i've grown so accustomed to, that i realize is normal: that i need to get out. Every time i come home from tour (and for some reason, usually because of the night flight times) i drop my bags on the floor, hop in the shower if i'm feeling ambitious, and head straight out to the bar and grab whomever is in the house to aid and abet me to listen to whatever entertaining stories i can come up with (there are usually none, either that or i'm always so wasted and tired that i can't be entertaining).
Not to drink. just to be out, i can't stand the instant silence; it compares well to being on a train that stops with a jerk. your brain keeps moving. Here, i'm still in London a little bit. i don't think i'd feel very much different if i was sitting in the lock tavern in camden instead of on columbus street a few blocks from my house. same buzz, same bullshit, same noise of humanity covering me like a soft sponge that i need to get lost in. it can be anywhere you go, anywhere you find yourself. but...the music in the bars and cafes in the UK in considerably more interesting.zzzzz
tonight the house is empty...lee is in montreal and pope is on his way to tierra del fuego or greece or wherever artists go to escape the brutal boston winter. i don't think he even knows where he's going, and he's probably sitting in the airport. killing time, at some parallel bar (but being far more entertaining than me).
i never feel like i need company but i sometimes want it. i watch my itchy finger reaching for the cell phone the minute i get in the cab, just to connect, with someone. what did i do before i had this phone? reflect with less distraction, this much i know. i noticed yesterday that on my london off day i didn't even consider leaving my hotel's neighborhood. to do what, exactly? sight-see? i can't imagine anything i'd rather not do. cafe-seeing is about as far as my tired imagination can go.
i watched the couple in front of me with 7 pieces of matching red luggage while i was waiting for a taxi at logan airport in boston. i got off thinking on a wild tangent about the Price Is Right and those afternoons eating ramen noodles in front of the TV, watching people absolutely LOSE THEIR SHIT about the matching luggage set, fingered and pawed at by those barbie negligee-clad vixens, only to obviously reveal "....and you'll need that matching set of luggage when you go on your all-expenses-paid-10-day-vacation to.....ACAPULCO!!!!"
hand sweeps over 12-ft airbrushed poster of beeeech
aaaaaaaaaaaagggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh
4-inch-high hairsprayed hair in turquoise banana-clip goes WILD!!!!!
they were EXCITED? to get on a PLANE?? and go to some random place and stay in some random probably-two-bit fucking hotel and do...what? escape? stir-fry themselves on a poolside doing nothing but feeling lost? argue with each other over Myties and fried shrimp appetizers with special spicy sauce? fuck it, i just have become completely bitter and removed from the working class and their desires. i've become able to commiserate only with the traveling businessman, the traveling salesman and the typical touring band. none of which i actually have Fuck All in common with except for our flight itineraries.
I remember when i was about 13 or 14 and i realized that the Price Is Right was actually one long commercial, I was PISSED. and i was even more pissed at myself for still being in awe of that huge, green, sparkly spinning wheel they used to determine who would contend in the Showcase Showdown. Let's not even START about Press Your Luck and the whammies.
...........................................
sitting here alone with my 2nd pinot noir i contemplate whether bob lefsetz is drunk when he writes his blog-posts. i can totally imagine gearing up, saying...ok, i'm going to WRITE ONE, and going to the the fridge, whereupon he cracks open a microbrewed beer and sits behind his laptop at his desk, cranking out those very capitalized-word rants about how rock as THEY knew it is DEAD. i love him but i want to hate him. he's a different monster, from a totally different era, that man from the glory days of rock, but i relate to his enthusiasm. he wants people to CARE about MUSIC, he wants the dream the way most genuine musicians want it, except he's coming at from the viewpoint not of a musician (which everybody today seems to be), but as a CRITIC.
the day after our show at the roundhouse, he posted a blog-thing-mailer-i-don't-really-know-what-they're-called-it's-basically-a-letter-that-goes-out-to-gazillions-of-people-on-his-list thing about seeing the Who play in the states at the hollywood bowl. and how totally awesome and powerful and meaningful it was and how (suggested) there's nothing around like that today. It's not like it WAS. and i wanted to strangle him and put him in a brief time-warp and drop him 5th-row center at the roundhouse show the other night with everybody freaking out and being all in love at the dresden dolls show and say, NO SEE? it's just not where you're looking. every time i read a post from him about how nobody BELIEVES anymore and how the spirit of music is GONE i want to fucking scream.
here are some choice excerpts from his...:
...................................................
"Back before it was how you looked. Back when what came out of a speaker could save your life. There was a song on the radio that appeared infrequently, but riveted your attention every time it came on. There was an acoustic guitar. Which started off slowly, and then the player started to STRUM! And suddenly, there came a blast, from over the horizon, like a SHOFAR! Calling you to worship at the altar of rock and roll. That song was "Pinball Wizard"......
....There's never been another [Keith, drummer of the who - a.] Moon. You know this if you saw him. His reputation as a loon undercuts the legend of his playing. This guy was not the bombastic Bonham, he wasn't about brute force, there was a subtlety within his sound, it had CHARACTER! Akin to a Jackson Pollock drip painting, initially it was hard to comprehend, but it all made SENSE!.....
...Nobody's looking anymore. They've found it. You do what you must to get the money. Whether legal or illegal. You need a nice ride, a crib in a gated community. Flowing champagne. We're not all in it together, everybody's about pulling AHEAD! Leaving the general public BEHIND! And once you make it it's all about lifestyle. Supposed heroes like Paris Hilton claim they're dumb. When did stupidity become revered? Intelligence radiated from the Who records like brain waves from Einstein, and that was part of the band's appeal....
......We used to look to musicians for direction.
We can again. By playing his heart out, by not just replicating what was on the albums, by doing a ton of new material, Pete Townshend was serving notice that he was not done yet. We should embrace this message.
And if tickets were fifteen or twenty bucks, if only the younger generation could see a show like this, they might believe too. Pricing has made this the Bentley of rock tours. It's exclusive when the music of yore was INCLUSIVE!
You can debate ad infinitum whether music can change the world.
But I'll tell you one thing for sure, music can change the individual. Can inspire him. Can instruct him. Can change the direction of his life.
That's what it used to do. That's why it's so powerful. That's why
they call it classic rock."
(if you are interested in reading more: www.lefsetz.com).
somebody out there who knows bob lefsetz, please invite him to a dolls concert (and buy him a few drinks when you get there).
..........................
meanwhile, back at the bar in boston.
the roundhouse shows were all that for me and more, because it went way beyond the music. all of those people, all of those artists, the feeling backstage, the feeling in the crowd, the feeling in the lobby, the challenge of giving people not just a show, but an experience. something that they themselves feel a part of of, simply by existing in the crowd. that we're not here to sell tickets or t-shirts or cups of overpriced beer...that we genuinely want to grab people and give them a good time, more than that, something to make them open up more, think more, feel like they were a part of something genuinely real, whether it's good or bad, amateur, or professional, that's totally irrelevant, the idea is that you're right there. this thing we all fantasize was happening all over the plance in the sixties. back THEN, when, according to bob lefsetz, people still BELIEVED. i see people wanting to believe so badly they do it til it hurts them. it keeps me up at night when i try to go to bed. maybe i'm taking something for granted. eh?
...................................
i just noticed how different the SHAPE of my blog is from bob lefsetz's. he writes in SENTENCES (with frequent capitalization, which i find charming). i write in long rambling paragraphs. one-line sentences keep people's attention for longer. more space. less density.
fuck it. i could try it.
none of this necessarily has to even make sense.
pony pony pony pony pony pony pony pony pony pony pony pony pony pony pony pony pony pony
.....................................
there are those moments, sometimes they happen in clusters, sometimes rarely as i find myself brainwashed by my own life, the denial and simultaneous realization that EVERYTHING is NORMAL, that there is no such thing, that everything is relative. i walk to the bathroom on the plane, always performing, feeling all those eyes on my as a brush pass this little swath of humanity, black-man-old-man-all-business-man-white-woman-japanese-man-hip-kid-small-child, smell that familiar smell and realize that i'm at home here, that i'm used to this. that i like the privacy of the bathroom on the plane the way other people look forward to walking to the coffee shop across the street from work on a lunchbreak. i'm thirty, i tell myself, i'm flying to london to shoot a few days of video and then return home a few days later to work on a play. that this is normal. that i've very possibly achieved what i've always fantasized about.
i sit there, smelling the combination of chemicals and air fresheners in the metal bathroom, that anorexic airplane air that swirls into your hair and pores, and all of a sudden i'm fifteen, i'm sitting in the bathroom stall in C-house during english. so bored every period that i take strategic bathroom breaks during each and every class just to have something to look forward to and somewhere to go. i look at my 15-year-old self in the mirror, god knows what i was wearing back then...i remember a blur of colored hair and berets, heavy overcoats and long thermal underwear worn under mens' boxer-briefs - printed with diamonds and polkadots - with crucifixes dangling suggestively over the thin, open flap in the front (the more expensive once had a single button but the kind that we usually wore, me and holly, came in three-packs from sears and had no such adornments). all that heavy black eye make-up, all that hiding, all that hating, all that confusion and loneliness, wet my hair perfectly messy and make famous faces in the mirror, daring someone to barge in and catch me.
.......................................
i also wonder, truly, how this blogging phenomenon works as a social conversation forum. mr. lefsetz culls and selects the comments he posts, pro and con, like an op-ed puppetmaster.
i've noticed that the nature of comments comes in waves, that they follow patterns.
that i've come to rely on them and their existence the way i rely on certain people calling me back when i leave messages and some people.....may never call back, some people can be counted on to not call back.
so i have to ask you: do you people who comment read each other's comments?
do those of y'all who don't comment read the comments of others?
and
trick question: when the blog is this fucking long, do you find you usually don't get to the end?
........................
cross-posted to
www.myspace.com/whokilledamandapalmer
.
Friday, November 10, 2006
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50 comments:
I always read to the ends. I really do care, I really love to know that someone else is on the same wavelength as me. You know that 15 year old girl who you say used to wear berets and long coats and sit in the toilet during lessons... well, she still exists- in me.
I always read all the comments that people have posted, always. If I wish to say something, then it would be just plain rude not to listen to what other people have to say, it's like interupting someone.
I wish I could tell you how REAL the roundhouse show was on saturday. I've been to a few concerts before, but your wasn't a concert, it really was an experience. No, it was more than that, it was...life. Yeah, life how it's supposed to be. I write songs (not great ones, mainly they complain about things like art teachers who pretend they have terrible illnesses, and how people automatically seem to assume that I wish I was popular, when they don't know me well enough to be sure that it's true) and thanks to your show I can see a future that I want. When everyone was chating- oooohh ooooohhh ooooohhh after you had sang sing (try saying that three times fast!) it was like we were all one, and for once in my life I was in a room where a thousand or so people related to me and I related to them in the same way.
I wish I could have met you- did you come out to meet people after the saturday show? I'm not sure. But I wish you could understand how much you have inspired me and made the life I have always dreamed of sem more real and maybe even possible for me.
Trick question: does anyone who reads other's comments actually get to the end when they are this long?
Much love
Alice
I have a kind of comment anxiety, so the only time I comment on any blog is if I feel I have something to contribute. And obviously, that isn't very often.
I read the comments left before mine, but I don't usually check back for new comments unless there's a lively discussion taking place.
And I always read to the end.
I always read to the end. Which may, admittedly be guilt because I used to write marathon blogs that made my friends' heads spin. But, the truth fo the matter is, your posts keep me interested all the way until the end... everytime.
I read other people's comments... in fact, sometimes I come back and read all the comments posted after mine too (assuming I posted). I don't know what this says about me. At all.
I still like the Price is Right, in a very passive way. If I actually sit down to watch it, though, it reminds me of sick days in grade school and I suddenly feel like a mass of unproductivity. (...As if I'm not procrastinating doing something right now. Two hours before class!)
I listen to the Who. I listen to Queen, CCR, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Jopin, Jethro Tull, etc... and I listen to the Dresden Dolls. And no disrespect to Keith, but Brian is by far the most amazing drummer/percussionist I have ever heard and is so high up on a pedstal in my mind, I can't even see the man anymore. I go on good faith that you two are taking care of each other up there.
Bob... see, I do agree that he's not looking the right places to see what he claims is lost in music, but I also get the distinct feeling that the man doesn't want to find what he claims is lost in music. He wants to regail the good old glory days and complain about how it'll never be like that again. And to find what he claims is gone, I think, might devalue said glory days to him a little. He doesn't want people to introduce him to the Dresden Dolls (though, they ought anyway), he wants to gather up company to sit around and have a grand bitch/reminsce session. And I understand how important it is for him to hang on to his "classic rock" ideals, and things have changed in many ways, but I don't see the point in purposely refusing to move foward and find that the same passion exists today, if only in different places.
As for the Dresden Dolls... I have a barrel full of ancedotes about how they've changed the lives of the people around me, and mine as well, in a very big way. Music is life, music puts air in my lungs, and music is my only hope for ever seeing any of this... change.
There was something magical about being at the TLA and realizing that, while I was busy reading articles on how students with Master's degrees will get, at best, a service sector job out of college and that after attending such intellectually stimulating classes day in and day out will have to forfeit it for "real life"-- that while I was busy biting my nails over it, here was a group of people who'd said fuck that and made the art, the music, the beauty their lives. I think I left part of me there with you... it didn't want to go back to school. And despite that I'm constantly having that plummer syndrome you've described, Amanda, where I can't help but wonder what good I'm doing anyone by going to a fucking liberal arts school, I saw so clearly that night how important art is. Let's face it... we're all looking for beauty and the artists are the ones who got tired of looking and decided to make their own. And it shows.
...I seem to be extra cynical today for no apparent reasons. My apologies. I just find myself wanting to ask to something, all the time, Amanda. You were even in my dream last night (and, although you were right in front of me, we only seemed to be able to speak through a computer screen). You say the difference between now and fourteen is little, except that once upon a time you were buckets more unhappy. So... what changed? How did you get out of that perpetual age-fourteen feast of pity and depression that no one I know actually wants to be stuck in but for some reason now is trendy and "emo" or something? I don't get it and my name isn't "Ms. Pouty Face" thank you very much, but what does one do when they're still a freak among freaks?
I find I like to keep my laptop on and plugged into the internet all the time because if it's not, I feel even more disconnected from everyone else in the world. But if it is, I'm still there, somewhere, on the world wide web at least.
I always read to the end. I can't not read to the end. Your life fascinates me, and I wish I had your job. I want to "make it" and go on tour with every fiber of my being. So much so that I think I try too hard sometimes. Try to force songs out of my head onto paper. Try to squeeze a little orriginality out of my palying. Try and write another song that everybody loves. But your music, your blog, your song book, your DVD, I guess you and Brain in general, inspire the hell out of me. It helps me to cool my head and let it flow a little, and not just try to force a cool chord progression out.
I always read the comments. At least most of them. I'd be lying if I said I read every one when there are twenty six of them and each one is a mile long.
Occasionaly I check and see if some of the commenters have blogs of their own, and I will read some of them. I find the people who listen to and adore you tend to be rediculusly insightful people.
And yes, I am aware of the fact that I can't spell for shit.
Now a question for Amanda:
Do you ever go and read the blogs of those who comment on yours, and if so, what are your thoughts?
I always read to the end of the blog since I find your ramblings delightful. I always at least scan the other comments, but only ever get to the end of the short ones. I never posted a comment before, so I guess that answers the other question, but since you asked the Amanda I am answering it by posting now. Thanks for the Roundhouse shows. I had an excellent time. I don't know any other band whose fans could be trusted with so many sparklers in the middle of a show. Do you read all the comments Amanda? Was Trash Sweeney okay after he fell off the stage on saturday?
I don't comment, I rarely comment, I obsess over the paltry few comments I leave and I allow my finger to hover over the submit button for seconds. Once pushed I go over what I wrote in my head repeatedly, I come up with better, witter, smarter things I should have said. I fret. Then I forget that I ever wrote the comment... at least until I stumble back across an old post and there is my comment staring back at me... (and I know that I am way too old for this shit and I should not let it get to me)
I do read even the longest blogs (although the skimming instinct is well grained and so I will often skim first then reread...old habits die hard) and, if something intrigued me, then I skim the comments... usually.
This entry too me about 12 min to skim, skim the comments, argue with my sister about whose turn it was to be on the computer, and then reread the entry. Not too bad.
(And I do remember when I would be excited to get on an airplane too. Now I always just seem sad when I am in an airport.)
i always make time for you, amanda. i read the blog entries immediately and thoroughly, and often find myself reading all the comments as well. it's beautiful and mesmerizing to see how many people feel an affinity to your words, to your music.
i can't imagine how you feel reading what all these (not really)strangers have to say about your life and art. there is a fine line between flattering and creepy. i walk it often.
I always read the entire post. It's like an occasional treat. When I saw this post, I made some coffee, let my cat out, and sat in my back yard reading it on my laptop, drinking coffee, and watching my cat chase things.
Sometimes I skim the comments. I usually don't comment because then I'd feel bad about not reading other people's and because it would be tough to fit my reaction to your posts into a brief comment.
Bob Lefsetz is right about most contemporary music (and art for that matter), but definitely not all. I've always thought of you and Brian as the pilot light keeping the flame alive.
I look forward to your posts; they're like an escape. I read all the way through and then sometimes I'll read/skim comments, sometimes not. I never really comment myself, because I'm not sure that what I'd have to say would be of any great consequence, or even if I could write something sensical.
I prefer to simply live vicariously
you are such a lovely person. my name is Kat and i had the happy opportunity to come to a dresden dolls show in raleigh, nc. i have to say that before i had heard maybe one of your songs, but afterwards i was hooked and i got both your albums on itunes.
you know why i like you guys so much? because it's so much like theatre. it's gorgeous what you do. and it's very open and real and at the same time mysterious. your lyrics are quirky and insightful and i adore them. i read your blog because it's honest.
i'm in a cover band called Sugar and we're going to be touring with some big famous peeps in a few months, which is really odd for a cover band. I am also starting my very first original band and i'm putting down the lyrics and chord progression and it's scary but it's fun. you have been a huge inspiration. do you read what people post?
i started playing acoustic guitar when i was about 15. then, at 20, i went to see the Yeah Yeah Yeahs at cats cradle in carborro, and that was what did it for me. i went out and bought an electric guitar and a crappy amp and started playing that. i started singing out with other bands until someone told me i should get one of my own. and it kicks ass so far. we travel a lot and it totally consumes me.
when i saw the dresden doll out, I looked at you and said to myself, "maaaan i have got to start playing piano again." i played at a young age but quit when i cried in front of my teacher and was too embarrassed to go back. i got my band to play coin-operated boy, and it's funny because we play really happy rock/pop music and people go crazy and dance around...when we played your song, everyone just stopped and listened. that was a really nice change. so thank you for that.
.........
so i guess really what i wanted to say is, NO. ROCK IS NOT DEAD. THE MUSIC HAS NOT DIED. because it's people like you and hopefully someday people like me that keep this shit going. that keep falling in love with music and getting others to fall as well. music today is better in some areas and worse in others. not everyone likes The Who (i mean, i love them, but i'm making a point). music is nothing but an opinion. and that's his opinion and he can think what he wants. it's funny when people feel the need to tell you the state that something is in.
anywho. i love your blog. i do not read blogs and i don't do myspace, but i really enjoy what you have to say. it makes me think and it helps me out.
you have something very special and so does brian, and when the two of you get together, you shoot sparks. and it's a beautiful thing to witness.
I read them to the end, and enjoy every second of it! Then if I feel I can relate to what others have to say about it I read all the comments, yes even the really long ones. *Usually* when they are really long they have some good substance to them. I understand people are busy and have other stuff to do, but it really irritates me that people’s attention spans are so short nowadays. Everyone just "Scans" through things, not that that is bad. I am constantly fighting the battle of efficiency VS. Quality time / “getting something done” VS. Actually DOING it, and experiencing it.
I will always have time to spend listening to your music, reading your blog, and commenting on it. It's so hard to find time to de-compress from the menial tasks of the day and to be able to put your mind at ease in a slow reflective state. That's what I do here, hope you liked it.
Trick Question #4: Do you have time to read all the comments? If so can you not comment on them? Or do you comment on them only directly to the commenter? Thus, leaving the rest of us "Out of the loop".
Well whatever, I enjoy it either way!!
length does not determine whether i finish reading a blog entry. content does. if you start writing shit i deem to be not worth my time, i probably won't finish reading. thus far, this hasn't happened yet; i have read every word of your blog and all the comments too. i've found that most people say the same thing ('i love you' 'meeting you changed my life' etc). While I'm sure you appreciate the love (yay for narcissism!), i don't like reading the same thing over and over and over again. but occasionally there are rare comments that catch attention because they are particularly well written or insightful. i often follow the links to the poster's blog-more reading material. =)
in late september, my grandma had a stroke. i sent my mother your first cd and the paradise dvd as a consolation present.
I read what other people write in comments so I don't have the blogger have to read 13 people saying the same thing, I can simply say I Agree w/ whatever common point they have. And getting comments is kinda nice, it's not just proof people read your blog, it gives you that same warm fuzzy feeling one gets when they get an e-mail or phone call from someone, just for them. Cyber love. Can't beat it-well short of the real thing. :o)
Well, I do always read what you write, because I think it expresses you very well and also expresses a lot of thoughts I have in a way that hI can not express them myself. I guess I am too orderly when it comes to writing. I rather talk.
I just read comments if the topic is interesting. I just recently began posting, because it seems like there is some smart and open minded community reading your blog and being active here, while at the forums you seem to have to be an insider if you want to get what it's all about. It's great that there are so many interesting people here. I wish I could just invite them all over for an evening, but I guess most of them are too far away. The depressing truth about the internet.
The saturday show was amazing and it is the realness that you two give it that makes your shows special. There is no Super Star feel about all this, and that makes people love you, it seems so "reachable" and intimate.
Also, the green octopus (what was his name again?) landed just in front of me. Sheesh, is he alright again? He did a great show there! I hope he doesn't feel bad about falling.
Reading some of the posts here, and especially considering Bob, I feel like we all have to take care that nostalgia doesn't get the best of us. If it does, we can't appreciate the now anymore. There is something weird about nostalgia, that also keeps us from realizing that we've grown, like when you look into the mirror and don't grasp that you're actually your age becausee you still feel the same inside. Do we really? Or do we just wish we would feel as extremely again as we did when we were 16?
I think one might need to take a brake more often and breathe just to realize what's actually happening and where we are.
Do you ever get a brake, Amanda? I sure hope you do. Take care.
If the blog is interesting, I read it to the end. Yours is always a good read because it's your diary and not your soapbox or your infomercial, and you use it to connect to and share with your fans.
Just one comment to this entry. Damn it. You go to London and you DON'T sightsee? There are so many amazing and beautiful things to see in this world. Most people see pictures or video, while you have a chance to see if for yourself. Don't cheat yourself. The high point of my very brief trip to England was Canterbury cathedral. There I stood, staring at the ceiling, wondering how all this was possible to create, then finding out how the Germans managed to bomb everything else in the area except it. So next time, forget about looking like a dorky tourist and do some exploring. Seriously.
With a name like Dresden Dolls one would think you'd be at least mildly fascinated with this sort of thing.
All the best.
I skim the others, but read all of yours.
People who refuse to look in the present for the things that could make them who and what they remember really make me sad. There is a lack of something, yes, but if we want it changed, we should be willing to look, find, change it.
You all do that for more people than can easily be named or numbered.
Your dream is that, it would seem, and that you are living it cannot be doubted, not easily, not truly, not well.
Ta.
my dearest amanda,
have airplane bathrooms become Again places in some strange and obscure way?
ok, do i read other peoples comments? sometimes. if you've posted something that's giving me thoughts that explode in thousands of different directions then i may look at others posts to see if we're wondering the same thoughts and questions and perhaps, inadvertantly, get some answers.
and...i always read to the end. always. long or short, they're always interesting, but the longer obviously contains more.
enjoy your break, you deserve it. i just hope no touring doesn't equal no blogging, i'd really miss it.
all my love,
andrea
p.s. cranberry kashi is good, go to whole foods and get some
Amanda, I think you are making more sense then ever, Its funny the way people have thse little comforts. when I look at them in their lives and they are arguing over which side order to have-I want to scream-grab them and say 'There is so much more to life then this!' I wish I could just show them that these needs are not needs, but just a devolvation mediarization of insucurity. When I look at you and Brian up their on stage, giving it your heart and soul-laying yourselves exposed and open, for everyone to whitness-they way you are both saying 'Here I am, this is my life' I feel overwhelmed with the frailty and beauty of the moment.
The thing with the faces of the airoplane when going to the toilet is so true! Whenever I get up on a plane, people look at me weirdly as if Im not allowed to pee, I always feel like Im on a huge stage, with no backup act!
I don't have the best of attention spans as Im usually thinking about some deep thing that goes on and on in my head like a Catherine wheel, but when I read your blogs, I always manage to read all the way through, and find myself looking for more!
Your posts are amazing, and I admire the plays you have written too.
P.s I find the music in the Uk very ....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...too!
Thankyou, Brian, and all the acts for giving me the best night of my life on Friday at The Roundhouse, Long live The Dresden-Dolls, and The Legendary Pink Dots. All my Love Ally xxxxxxxx
'i see people wanting to believe so badly they do it til it hurts them. it keeps me up at night when i try to go to bed. maybe i'm taking something for granted. eh?'
No, you're not. Some of us really do want to believe, it's just really goddamn hard. Thank you for wanting me to, though. For wanting everyone to, I suppose.
I don't really read other people's comments, because they're (we're?) obviously all writing to you, and I have a feeling that while they're all differently phrased, it all could say the same. It's not a matter of being snobbish and not bothering with anyone else's comments, it's really more like reading someone else's letter that's meant for YOU to read.
'and some people.....may never call back, some people can be counted on to not call back.'
Fuck those guys.
Hi Amanda and thank you for the most fucking awesome show ever!! I was at London on Saturday and I was really blown away!!!
I usually don't read other people comments, but sometimes rarely I do. I usually send you some email or pm at the shadowbox to comment your blogs, but this is not everytime you write a blog. But I do read them everytime, first I read the blog very fast and then I'm coming to read it again when I can read it properly. I like reading your blogs because they usually tell me how you are doing etc.
And yes, I do read to the end, I don't like to miss a thing :)
Take care,
Satu
I tend to read the whole post, but fall short of catching up on all the other people's comments. Maybe the first two or three, just to make sure I'm not going to make a fool out of myself.
It seems we keep missing each other. I moved out of Chicago right before Lolipalooza(sp?), couldn't find the venue for "Fuck the Back Row", and like an idiot I didn't buy tickets in time for your show in Washington DC. I hope someday to have the pleasure.
Anyway, you could call me anytime you needed someone to talk to. I always pick up on drunk-dialers and can easily talk about anything... Price is Right, rock, anything. In fact I'm much more adept at talking on the phone as opposed to talking in person.
i tend to read the first few comments, then skip the middle ones, and read the last one, then maybe comment! i rarely comment, because everyone else has pretty much summed up everything i would want to say anyway. would another anonymous fan commenting on here make a difference?
and yes, i always read to the end of each of your blogs. i love them. you might not believe this but when i'm reading them i always wish they won't end, hoping that this is another long one.
pony pony pony pony pony pony pony pony pony pony pony pony pony pony pony pony pony made me laugh out loud. :) *sighs*... you're awesome.
i check in about once a week. i'm a bit of a slacker when it comes to utter reliance and engrossment (i rarely read other comments and sometimes skim over entries) but i do feel the same need for connections, be it cyber or real.
you're not alone, doll. and you owe me a cigarette.
moe
It's a sounding board.. Like different timbers, everyone has their own resonance. Everyone has their parts, their ears might muffle, or the brain is too busy, predispositions forged, or maybe they're not timber, but brass. It's as though you already have a song in your head, someone turns on the TV. You wake up to find it's a radio alarm clock chirping in your ears. It drips in, and all becomes your own. I think that is the attraction which holds true for everyone. Your own little slice of understanding the self, just that little bit more. Sometimes it's through others, sometimes it's in isolation. It's so very difficult to understand why you are doing something, but still enjoying occasionally playing the fool. You find a comfy little corner, eying off knowledge, freedom and the exit at the other three.
Oh dear, I've started to think too much, and I know that I'm not wise enough to understand it all.
That, and it's starting to sound like a drunken post. I know I've been guilty of that, on occasion.
Regarding the questions.. I tend to skim the other comments for things which protrude. Otherwise, I'll soak up what I relate to and let my subconsciousness do what it may. I don't comment often enough, or read comments often enough to know whether that may be the norm, but your first two questions tend to put me in between two extremes. Lastly, I do always read to the end of posts. As long as there is passion, for whatever the topic may be, then it stands up as something worthwhile.
Thank you for sharing yout little slice of understanding.
Shannon
i've been reading your blog for quite a while but have never posted before. i guess i felt that i wouldn't have anything insightful to say. as for your questions, i hadn't ever commented before this, but i used to read most of the comments. and no, i always get to the end. it's really refreshing that you care enough to share so much of your life and your feelings. as a lot of other people have mentioned, it provides so much hope and comfort knowing how you feel, and that we're not alone.
i couldn't help but laugh when i thought to myself, "maybe amanda would call me. i want company sometimes too. wouldn't it be awesome if she called me? yeah. it would." i am often feeling that same way, a need 'just to connect, with someone.' it's nice to dream.
last but not least - you're a fucking inspiration to everyone. i don't know who that guy is that you mentioned but he couldn't be more wrong. as you said, he's just not looking in the right places. i was at the show in sayreville a few weeks ago (not the PANIC one, which i was also at, and which was unfortunate), and it was the first time in a long time that i felt connected, completely, and beautifully, with the music i heard, and the people that surrounded me. it was magical. thanks for that feeling. i hope one day to be a part of something like that.
-josh
This is the first time I've gone into the comments section.
To say no, I don't read them.
If I did comment, I still wouldn't read them. From the others.
I considered leaving comments, when you started blogging (I can't believe how famous you are getting), but I didn't figger you'd read it, or respond...I thought I'd let you enjoy the bloggedy-blog in your own space and right.
i was at the roundhouse saturday and it was pretty fabtabulous my love! me and my two friends came up from a lil place called nowhere on the train for n hour n a half to get to london, the que time was spent dropping cardboard flavoured chips on the floor playing with sparklers, talking to some punks, having a paper aeroplane contest with an older couple and writing my name is kalendrina and i love you very much on a nice girl (also called holly)
the supports were great (but no red paintings boo hoo, nevermind) and you were excellent, your voice was pitch perfect i swear i wanted to melt,
but the best/ worst/ most random bit of the performance was...
when you played sing..
1. it was awesome cos the room was so full of love and everyone had sparklers and it was just beautiful
2. it was bad because the girl behind me set fire to me with a sparkler and i lost half my hair in a flurry of flames
3. and it was random because when id put myself out and informed the girl that it was fine, no need to worry i carried on singing like a loon till the end of the song
oh and then we missed the last train home even tho we left the gig early
and got stuck in a place called tonbridge
but thats not the point it was a great gig
LONDON LOVES THE DRESDEN DOLLS
come back soon my darlings
(or alternatively play a teeny weenie, practically non-profit, bohemian gig at a tiny place called the tonbridge wells forum, then itd be easy peesy to get there)
i read to the end. the longer the entry the better. i print them out and take them to the bathroom with me - excellent break during the workday, thank you.
i don't usually have time to read everyone's comment. i'll glance them over sometimes. but, most of the time it's people saying the same thing.
do you read every comment?
C-House, hmm back at the beginning of the ninties, home to Mr. Hiedbrink and his PERSIA gem theory, political,economic,religious,social,intellectual,agricultural. No wonder you spent so much time in the bathroom! Welcome back home....
I rarely read other people's comments, I only come here to read you :) I prefer to read your blog last, like the cherry on an icecream sundae, and I read it to the end, relishing every last word.
When I come home from some place that energy was such that it leaves my skin tingling I find some sort of solace in the immediate and inevitable stillness I feel. I'm not a social person, at least not in that way that most people are social people. I'm more of an introverted conversationalist. I suppose that's more common than the uniqueness I'm giving myself credit for.
I never really enjoyed The Price is Right. Ever since my granddad told me that it was rigged to let the poor black woman win every time I was repelled from the show. Not because what he said was true, but because it could inspire such comments. My granddad was racist. So was my grandmom. For the longest time I thought the "N-word" meant a lawn jockey because when they pointed someone out I couldn't comprehend that it would belong to anything other than the inanimate object they were standing next to.
I think if I won a trip to some other place along with matching luggage I would sell my plane ticket and buy Chai Tea at a "mom and pop" cafe' and go spend the week at a friends house with my matching luggage.
The first time I went on a place I made myself hungry because I kept comparing the clouds to various foods. Cauliflower, mashed taters, whipped cream.
I don't think I can attest to knowing anything about music history. I don't know enough to compare the affect on the older generations with the affect on mine. I just know that I've experienced concerts where I give myself away to the feeling I get. LeRoy White can do that to me. Just being in that man's presence can do that do me.
Blogging is not conversation, I don't think. Blogging is journaling outloud. It can inspire conversation in the form of comments. I never really read others comments, though. I don't know why. I don't much converse with people in a blog setting. I would answer something that was replied to me. I suppose I don't want to get lost in the conversation but, rather, get lost in the entry itself. That sounds obnoxious. I don't mind being obnoxious at times.
I have a question. Do bloggers ever really read the extent of their comments? What inspires a blogger to reply or not reply? And if a comment is ridiculously long will they just pass it by?
First, yes, I always read to the end. But then, I always post wicked long entries in my blog/journal/whatever-it-is so maybe I feel like it would be hypocritical of me to not read them all. After all, I put my fiends through the same thing. The comments, I read when I have time. Unfortunately, that's not as often as I'd like.
Second, that guy is right in a way. In his heart, rock is dead. But it is only dead because he let it die. Rock doesn't die unless you let it. I mean, I hate that concerts are generally so expensive. I hate that all the radio stations play the same thing sometimes(for the record, I listen to WBCN, WZLX, WFNX, WAAF, and Rock 101 - comes in from Manchester, NH) because they're all owned by giant media conglomerates who care only about money and not about music. Too bad they'd probably make more money if they cared about music, but that's a discussion for another time...
Despite all that, I am not of the belief that rock is dead. I listen to lot's of rock. To name a few: Led Zeppelin and The Who and The Beatles and The Rolling Stones, Pearl Jam, Nirvana, Smashing Pumpkins, Hole, Bush, Collective Soul, Goo Goo Dolls, Billy Joel, Tom Petty, The White Stripes, Weezer, Silverhcair, Stone Temple Pilots, Radiohead, Dream Theater, Red Hot Chili Peppers, System of a Down, Aerosmith, Godsmack (yay for hometown!), the Dropkick Murphys, Queen, obviously the Dresden Dolls, and many, many, many more. Rock and Roll doesn't die. Many of these artists are still touring and creating music. And their musical endeavors are no less important or interesting than the music of the days of old. And Rock and Roll lives on.
Honestly? It will live on as long as someone sits down (or not) and listens to it and feels alive because they did. Rock and Roll should be inclusive. Yes, I agree (that's my issue with most Christian Rock, actually. Not the music, but the fact that it seems so alienating). But it should also be edgy and experimental. It should be forever changing. And it should reach out and grab you by the head and scream "ARE YOU LISTENING?"
And if you're not listening, it should wake you up. Music is a part of life. It can be healing and it can be harming. It can save you or it can destroy you. And no matter which it does to you (unless you're one of those sad souls who does not understand its power), you can take comfort in the fact that it does do something. And that's the best part of music.
Our lives are so complicated and busy these days, we seem to have less close friends on average than ever before. And the ones we have, we see less often. For me, at least, music replaces some of the loneliness that's been exacerbated by the fact that we're all in college now. But I can put on a song and remember all the good times from, the past and know that it's not long until I see them again. Music connects me to my friends. Certain songs are forever embedded in my memories. They are kickback to a happier, more carefree time. And when I listen to them, somehow, I feel that everything is going to be alright. This is the power of rock and roll and music in general, really.
I think that's why it will never die. It may become almost unrecognizable, but it will be there. I really think there's only one thing quote that's appropriate. Thanks to Billy Joel for providing it.
Everybody's talkin' 'bout the new sound
Funny, but it's still rock and roll to me
I comment in my head, or in my own little book of thoughts. I dont suppose that helps you much, but then i never considered that my comment would help you at all. I have never commented for any other reason than to sort my own thoughts out.
I suppose that makes me selfish? Or just unaware of the effect i could have on others?
Yes, thats selfishness.
I try not to read other peoples comment before i have written my own. I am too easily influenced by other peoples direction. So i decide for myself then wonder what other people think....Thankyou for the rounhouse show it was truely inspiring.
I totally agree with the "occasional treat" comment. Reading this blog is like accidentally hearing a great song at a bad open mic night.
It's always kind of surprising and fulfilling to know that people have things to say. Blogs that include photos of people's pets are like the Price is Right of the interwebs.
i read everything you post. and some of the comments, others i don't read probably because i am always on the run and other times they are so novel like (which is not a bad thing).
i am making a serious recommendation that you read "Questionable Content" it's a webcomic by J. Jacques which will have you falling on the floor laughing. it will grip you with the mimetic-of-real-life style which asks you to Care about the characters. you'd like the language also. very funny.
you are great by the way. m.
well, to be honest this is the first time i've commented, and also the first time i've ever read other people's comments. so this is an important event... *trumpets*.
and all i'd like to say is that your last Sydney concert made me feel the most real i had in a long time. the most powerfully alive. it was one of the few times i've seen people let go of their hundreds of layers of irony and self-consciousness, so that instead of acting the part of someone at an incredible rock concert, they were genuinely there. you are changing the world!
I went to see the show at Round House in London fantastic here are some of my pictures http://www.picturise.com
I rarely comment, I don't always read every comment (in your blogs there tend to be tons), but I usually read the entire post, if it is interesting. And yours tend to be well written and interesting. (If not complete sentences) Do you read all of our comments?
While I have never met you, Amanda, I can understand a lot of what you're talking about. I've been a hardcore music fan for my entire life and it kills me when people start talking about the music of yesteryear like it was superior to anything happening now.
Just like art, it's all about perspective. Being young and growing up where we did, we saw things that blew us away and put us on a path. I mean, you're a musician, I'm a musician, so apparently, something rather profound must have happened to us in the present world to have this effect on us.
I think it is safe to assume that some of the music and bands that touched your life and led to the creation of the Dresden Dolls was not from the era of the Who. I think it's all about the time, because when I hear the Who now, I think it's majestic and truly awe-inspriring, but it's not artistically inspiring to me. Sure, through influence of my favorite bands, they're an influence on my art, I'm certain of it.
However, for a direct touching of the soul, they are not the ones who did it. There are many bands and musicians that have done that. And you are one of them. I think the difference between then and now is the personalization of fan and musician. It's not some unattainable world, you're not some mystical being who plays piano, you're someone just like all of us who creates something beautiful, influential and inspiring...you're appreciated for your talents and craft, not a created mysticism. I think it makes it more magical than anything back then.
While I doubt anyone would HEAR the influence on my music, I can guarantee you it is there. Whether it be in the bravery of continuing on as a two-piece, the feeling of comfort (well, reasonable comfort...you're never TRULY comfortable being completely open) in exposing one's soul you've given or themes I've inadvertantly lifted, it's there.
Don't let someone from the old school tell you anything. Believe me, this generation's children will hear the same thing from us. You can never buy into hindsight too much, it's far too romanticized. Keep doing what you're doing. You're proof that the best of music is not in the past. Thank you for the inspiration. If you ever make it down to Texas again, I hope to shake your hand and say thank you in person.
While we think ourselves beautiful snowflakes, there are shards of others that resonant in ourselves. When I read your blog or listen to your lyrics, something about them resonsonates within me. While insanely narcissistic, human history is one long tryst of self love, and I don't mean the messy kind.
Today information is like ADD, while I may not read it all in one sitting I do eventually read it, using it break the tedium of a desk job.
I skip other comments, time sadly, as we eventually learn from enough funerals, is finite.
I have never commented before, though i almost always meant to. I read the other comments when they catch my eye, like 'deadbolt' here talking about meeting you.
I met you after a show in phoenix, and at a show in Tempe you pulled me on stage and I sang Science Fiction Double Feature with you and Brian. I had flowers in my corset and you said it was sexy. I couldnt form whole sentences for hours after that.
Reading other peoples stories about seeing you and meeting you makes it feel like we are all part of somthing huge, all of us wanting so much to share a meaningful moment with you. Reading the thoughts you inspire in others is just another way for us to share this place you have created for us.
Its the Music/Theatre/Passion place where we all live when we are at your shows or listening to the songs, or just reading your blog and trying to imagine the smell of he cafe. Thats a home, just as much as the paint and glass where your stuff lives, and I thank you both for letting us help build it. Yeah that was a little cheesy, but its true.
im gonna sound like a psycho. completely. But i had a dream that I met you last night and hung out with you and my other friends. You came to our imaginary house or some shit. It was so out of the ordinary because i havnt thought about you guys in a little while
ANYWAY, then today i saw a familiar face semi incognito at the middle east. it was an interesting moment cathartically.
anyway enough with the psycho stuff it was good to see you around boston, ive always wondered if id ever bump into you around there since i go to so many shows.
I assume you went to go see Ho-Ag but i really really hope you saw helms because they are one of my favorite, most underrated boston bands out there.
Also i never know how to deal with seeing celebrities, or actually semi-celebrities in real life. Super celebrities are a given, you never talk to them ever. But someone who might be on the fence is more difficult. I guess the best bet is to leave people alone and let them get along with their lives without being harassed. But either way whether or not I say hi to them, it still means a lot to see someone in the living flesh, human and real. Its an aspect of society thats more screwed up than ive ever let myself to think about. I bet its on your mind a lot anyway. That your just fucking human but demi-cosmically worshiped.
anyway hope you are well and have a very good christmas
love Heliopath
all of a sudden i'm fifteen, i'm sitting in the bathroom stall in C-house during english. so bored every period that i take strategic bathroom breaks during each and every class just to have something to look forward to and somewhere to go.
That sounds familiar. Rationing my bathroom breaks in exams and classses, just to get some fresh air before my face explodes and destroys my paper on sexual power in the plays of Henrik Ibsen that is completely half assed anyway...
I will take this moment to announce that I have never before posted a comment. But now I have.
I also want to thank you for your Sydney show, I flew over from Perth to Brigade, met Jason, who let me work merch for him in Perth. If you heard of a girl getting thrown out of the Heat for being underage, that was me - I wasn't underage, but one of the bar staff hates me... I keep his testicles as my trophy. Still, Jason snagged the poster you did advertising the songbook, and got it to me after the show, so that's something.
I somtimes wonder how people before MSN and Blogs and telephones knew they were loved. We seem to judge our desirability not by the size of our breasts or penis, but by the size of our inbox and our friends list.
I would have been a very lonely cave woman, that's for sure.
Continuing on ...
dear the security staff of the club in perth,
you guys treated our crew so badly that we're never coming back to your club. fuck you and try being nicer to people, it works.
love
amanda
They were the most horrible security I have ever met. I was neither difficult, not resistant as they tried unfairly to remove me from the building, all of Jasons money still attached to me, yet it was still deemed imperitive that I be manhandled. My arms were very bruised by those big fat cretins.
I had a little word with the man handler, telling him, "I know you are having a very difficult night, and the bands seem unhappy and the fans are giving you lip, but it would all be a lot more bareable - for us all - if you would tone down the machoism and just be a little nicer. The security guard in Sydney gave me his car keys to go get pepsi, because I said i was thristy. All you gave me was bruises shaped like your fingers on my upper arm, when it was clear I was no trouble. Please be nicer, it will make your job a lot easier, and stop me from wanting to explode all over your lovely bouncer uniform, spraying anger and frustration at this injustice like a skunk spays musk."
...or something like that....it might have just been "fuck you you big meany with no neck"
I forget. It was a while ago.
I am so sorry for their behaviour, and I wish you had a nicer time in Perth, even the weather was shit that day. Please don't think we're all like that, we have really nice security at places like Amps, and I know the manager of the Heat, she's so nice, and she was so upset that you didn't have a better time! Perths alternate music scene...actually....Perths music scene in general is very small, dark, and scared of loud noises.
I don't normally read other comments simply because my eyes go blurry by the end of your blogs, but dispite that I always feel I have to get to the end so I contunue reading, even if I have to stick my pink filter paper against the screen to help me read. You inspire me alot, I've never really had anybody that inspires me but you, you rock!
Nathan
This was posted on my 13th birthday... and yes, I alwys get to the end.
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