Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Tag: mike gordon (Page 2 of 2)

We Can Rebuild It; We Have The Technology

mikeinterviewJB“Speaking on behalf of the Grateful Dead–”

“Why are you doing that?”

“–the Fall Tour is going to be bigger, louder, and Mayer than anyone could dream.”

“So, you are confirming a tour this September?”

“Contracts are signed, Johnny Applefucker–”

“Not even close to my name, Mike.”

“–and it’s gonna be like, hey: look at these jams. Look at them. Would you like to take a picture of the jams? I have a camera.”

“Here’s the important question: who’s in the band?”

“Well, obviously, I am now a Grateful Dead.”

“My God.”

“I know, right?”

“Took my ID photo today, got my health insurance paperwork, was issued a Benjy.”

“Heady times. Why is Phil not playing bass?”

“Oh, he will be, Bananas Fosterburg–”

“Nope.”

“–just not in the same venues. He’ll be with some very talented young people who do what they’re told and aren’t Billy and where he gets 80% of the door.”

“Okay. So: Mike Gordon on the bass. Both drummers?”

“Yes, plus Mickey has been given–and I’m quoting–‘carte blanche to invite any random Senegalese drummer onto the stage, even during the first set.'”

“Awesome. Him and Billy getting along.”

“Like a house on fire. Also, they have set a house on fire.”

“It’s how they bond.”

“I do have some exclusive news, Jilly Sue McKittrick.”

“So wrong.”

“Billy has purchased a new set of tennis shoes.”

“WOW.”

“Still red, though. They might be the exact same model.”

“Ah.”

“Billy likes his red shoes. He puts ’em on and he has this little character he does, Billy Billy Redfoot, the San Antonio Strangler.”

“Describe that.”

“He strangles people.”

“Mike, you have a way with words.”

“Thank you.

“Let’s build it up a bit, Mike. Before we get tp the guitarists, let’s talk keyboards.”

“Jeff Chimenti will be there. Bobby and Phil sat him down and had a long talk with him about how they couldn’t be in the same band anymore, but that didn’t mean they loved him less.”

“Tough moment for a keyboardist.”

“He’s gonna spend Christmas with Phil, so it’ll be okay.”

“That’ll be nice.”

“Yeah.”

“Bruce Hornsby?”

“Negotiations are proceeding smoothly, but Bruce wants a lot of money, plus he’s figured out the trick to making a deal with the Dead.”

“And that is?”

“Bruce will only negotiate with Mickey.”

“Mickey’s camp.”

“Mickey himself. The human being that is Mickey.”

“Smart man, Bruce Hornsby.”

“No slouch.”

“Mike Gordon?”

“Yes, Leather Tuscadero?”

“Who will be the new guitarists for the Grateful Dead?”

“Bobby.”

“Well, yeah.”

“And…”

“Don’t be a dick, Mike.”

“John Mayer.”

“That’s great, Mike. So: John Mayer’s a Grateful Dead now?”

“Got his Benjy today, too.”

“Wonderful. Great. This is just what Christ died for.”

“Glad you’re on board.”

“No worries.”

Phisherman’s Cap

benjy eisen mike gordon

Hey, Mike.

“Oh, am I part of your nonsense now?”

I actually listened to some great stuff from The Phishes today. Really enjoyed it: some ’97 from Amsterdam.

“Yeah, they were great shows. Um…”

Yes?

“This is?”

Oh, that’s Benjy Eisen. He belongs to Billy.

“Can Billy come get him?”

Ah. No. Y’see: Billy did Conan last night, so he was up real late assblasting 22-year-old PA’s.

“Shit.”

Yeah.

How does Benjy smell?

“Like my number one fan.”

Yet Another Open Letter To Trey Anastasio

My Dearest Treyvon,

Hi! How are you? I’m fine! I hope it’s getting warmer where you are! It sure has been a rough winter! Talk about “cold rain and snow!”

Please stop writing like that.

Trout, we need to get some stuff straight, but right upfront: TotD thinks you are the best choice for the gig. Granted, I did lobby pretty hard for Ace Frehley to get the job, but that’s just because of my love of a good train wreck. Your presence makes this an Event, whether bitter and silly Deadheads want to acknowledge it or not.

Technically, you are more than qualified for the job. You can play really fast or really, really fast. You have many pedals, which Garcia would have approved of. Your guitar costs as much as a Ford Fiesta, which Garcia would have loved. The only way you could solo more would be to sleep less.

Garcia was known to solo.

I don’t know what songs you’ll be taking lead vocals on, but I’m sure singing lyrics that aren’t terrible will feel comfortable eventually.

That said: we need to get some shit straight, Tiff Anasazi.

This, for example, is not going to work for anyone:

trey shorts

We already got one of these. No one needs another one of these. The one we’ve got is more than enough trouble, thank you.

There will also be none of this:

trey wtf
I don’t know what’s happening here, but it can’t happen anywhere near Billy. For your safety, the earnest teens’ safety, and–since the shows are taking place on July Fourth–the country’s safety: do not do this, whatever it is.

You also don’t need to bring any weapons.

trey micke guns
It’s Chicago; you can find guns there easily.

To conclude: Toy Alpaca, you are the guy for this gig. Do it right. (And no shorts.)

Sincerely,

Thoughts on the Dead

Dead And Nancy

 

bobby moickey mike gordon pelosi

There are three Grateful Deads in this picture. (There is one more Grateful Dead concealed behind a Phish: Billy, whose head you can barely see cresting over Mike Gordon’s head and whose hand you cannot see grabbing onto Nancy Pelosi’s ass.)

Mickey, as always, is prepared for a drum circle to break out at any moment. Later on, he will tell the Senator that he picked out the patriotic sweatband in her honor. Enthusiasts will recognize this as a blatant lie, as Mickey has been wearing that thing since, like, 1970.

Bruce, also as always, looks like a Founding Father. The man is so white he gets the Sunday Edition of the New York Times every day. Bruce is also not that tall: he is standing on a busboy named Carl. Luckily for all involved, getting stood upon by keyboardists is Carl’s fetish; everybody wins.

Bobby’s shitfaced.

Black And White Pic Of White Men In Black Shirts

bobby mike gordon fish story

“So is it still mousse? You kids still all about the mousse? I bought a can once, but got confused and put it on my hot chocolate.”

“Oh, no, Bobby: mousse is out. All about the leave-in conditioner product. Put in on in the shower, pat dry with a towel, style as desired.”

“Wow, wow. The future, huh?”

“It’s here, yeah.”

“But, hey, man: I don’t have to tell you that having the best hair in the band is a hassle. But it’s worth it and we owe it to the fans and, really: we owe it to our hair.”

“I hear ya.”

“And it must be tougher for you than for me: if I was having an iffy hair night, I still had my pretty, pretty face to pull me through. You’re not a ‘face’ guy, y’know?”

“I always love our talks, Bob.”

 

Bound To Cover Just A Little More Ground

The Phishes do this thing most years when Trey isn’t dead where they cover an album at Halloween. This year, they pretended they were themselves in the future, or the past–i can’t figure it out and really don’t care to. Also, Mike Gordon probably tried to drunkenly finger Abe Vigoda at the after-party.

So, the big Phish sites (and damn, they look better than mine) were advocating for this album or that, when I realized that–as usual–Big Dead was hiding things from us. I broke into Dennis McNally’s condo and interrogated one of the many, many women he had imprisoned as part of his role as a major conductor on the unholy railroad of the white slave trade.

Dude, we’re gonna get sued.

She showed me to a secret cache of documents and recordings that proved BEYOND A SHADOWING OF DOUBTFULNESS–

For fuck’s sake, Crazy Pants…

–that as usual, the Dead were the first to do everything, but poorly. Below are a by-no-means complete list of attempts the Dead made at covering an album.

Abba’s Greatest Hits was out. They tried it at rehearsal but Phil kept wandering away from the beat and then Mickey would pull out his oud and Bobby would start doing his Swedish Chef routine. So, it was interesting, but not quite listenable.

Phil wanted to do Beethoven’s Fidelio, and then he got down on his knees and put his hands in his shirt like had flipper arms and starting telling everyone he was Thomas Quasthoff and the people that got it didn’t think it was funny and Phil’s feeling were hurt so he built a restaurant and charged everyone a million dollars to eat oven-roasted shrimp and watch him jam with his kids. 

Bobby recommended they cover American Beauty and when gently informed about what covering a record meant, he said, “Yeah, I know. But we cover ourselves, man. Aren’t the masks we wear in real life the true representation of our actual selves? Man?” And then Billy, deservedly, punched him in the dick and was suspended indefinitely by the Miami Dolphins.

Our esteemed Prime Minister of Optimus and West Coast Promotions Man, Mr. Completely, reminds us of Phil and Ned’s abortive stab at Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On? in 1974, Seastones-style. It had been going for 45 minutes and showed no sign of ending when a small Chinese man carrying a plastic bag stood courageously in front of the synthesizers.

In a quiet and unsure voice, Vince asked if they could play something from The Tubes. No one said anything. “I already know all the parts,” Vince added. It was quiet until Ramrod told them it was time to play.

Billy said he wanted to try Lonesome Prairies by Dick Punch and Brent said, “Who’s Dick Punch?” and Billy went “Yours!” and punched him in the dick and it was hard to muster up any sympathy at all for him there.

One year, the members of the Dead crowded around Garcia’s iPhone that he had plucked from within the Time Sheath and somehow not set ablaze. They read forum posts, bloggings, articles, and listicles speculating on what their musical costume would be that year and as they read, their mouths took on meins of disgust as they realized that the phrase “musical costume” was perhaps the least cool thing they had ever heard and decided to just play their usual show, but poorly, as to show their displeasure. Billy also posted a comment on one of the sites calling the author’s mom gay.

Thanks to the gents over at The Phunion  for the idea, which they themselves stole from Relix.

Newer posts »