Let Me Start By Saying...

(April 14, 2002)

"Hey Talky Talkerson, wake up."

I groaned and rolled over, brushed hair from my eyes, and squinted. Sunlight in window, sunlight in window, sunlight in window. (Hey, Lisa is right. When you state the very obvious three times fast, it IS funny). "Why am I Talky Talkerson?" I mumbled thickly. "And," snuggling deeper into the comforter, "why do I have to get up?"

"You're Talky because you came in at 3am and wouldn't stop telling me how great Must is while I was trying to sleep, and you have to get up because it's 3:30 in the afternoon. You know how mad you get when you sleep all day."

"Crap," I said. But I got up. Hub's right. Though I've had late nights and early mornings since Thursday, I do hate when I wake up and find a Sunday all the way gone, especially a GORGEOUS day like today. At this point I've had my coffee and oatmeal, and I've even taken Chloe for a walk outside.

Right now I'm listening to our police scanner, because there are like six firetrucks and three police cars around the corner. I'm listening because I just kinda want to know if we have to run screaming from the neighborhood while it's consumed by a churning tornado of smoke and flames.

...

Just followed Hub outside. He went around the corner to see if it was our car on fire. No, there's no reason why it would be. But he went to check nonetheless.

Sometimes Hub unplugs stuff just for the fuck of it. Academically, I understand that with an undergraduate degree in Electrical Engineering, he has more than the average person's understanding of what makes, say, a toaster, get hot and toast stuff. But in reality, when I go to put a piece of raisin bread in the toaster, I expect it to start doing it's little job...toasting. I do not expect to come back to the toaster ten minutes later to find it cold, unpopped, and unplugged.

Our car is fine. It's parked in the middle of the action, a few doors down from Al's house. Who, of course, was standing outside with the rest of the neighborhood. With like eight little kids around him. Alright maybe not eight, but enough kids so that when he grinned and gestured me over I smiled and waved, whilst turning and fleeing. I'm wonderful with like, ONE kid at a time. Well, that and also a little bit maybe because Anne Weeks stuck her head out too, and did not smile. Anne's a nice chick and really fantastic writer who quite plainly doesn't like me much at all.

Girls don't get me, I think.

Whatever.

So how about that NeMo, huh? Let's get into it.

NeMo, aka New Music Conference (no it's not an acronym, don't waste your time trying to figure out how come it's not "NeMCo") is kicked off every year by the Boston Music Awards. The BMAs were Thursday night at the Orpheum. If you're a lucky scenester, you get a free ticket to the awards and a pass to the Friday and Saturday conferences, and clubs (both nights). I'm lucky, so Yay Me. This year it was T Max that hooked me up, and I didn't even have to sleep with him. And it wasn't just any pass, it was a press pass, so it got me everywhere at the Orpheum and into the after-party at the Big Easy, without waiting in any lines. GOD, how great is the wave-through? The instant lift of the velvet rope? I HATE waiting in lines for stuff.

But I'm getting ahead of things.

Thursday night at six I drove to Jamaica Plain wearing an outfit I wasn't sure about, so I brought along a back-up and modeled both options for T Max. He picked out a blend of two outfits, creating a whole new ensemble I hadn't even thought of. Which displayed cleavage. (I know that shocks those of you who know him.) After a couple of false starts leaving the grand Noise headquarters, we left. Actually one of the false starts proved to be a valuable flash of foresight. T Max decided to run back upstairs and fill his two flasks. I took the opportunity, waiting in the car, to powder my decolletage. "Hey," I nodded to a passing neighbor. Finally we left, talked about blowjobs all the way to the Orpheum, and parked the car.

Overall? The BMAs are a schmooz-fest and a half. But if you have the right attitude, it's fun. The whole concept of having a BOSTON-only music award on a national level taps such a funny little sub-sector of musical superlatives that, when the winners are announced, a scoff of annoyance is quickly replaced by a sort of zen acceptance. Think about it. The question of who gets nominated is "Of all the artists from Massachusetts who have a record deal with a major label, which are the best?" Isn't that kind of weird? Doesn't it scream "I'M A POPULARITY CONTEST!" For example, take the category of "Rock Band." If you're only talking a)Boston band b)major label and c)rock genre, that means that every single year, Aerosmith and the Mighty Mighty Bosstones get nominated as long as they don't fall off the planet. This year American Hi-Fi, Godsmack, and Staind were also nominated.

I forget who won. Shut up, it's not my fault-- the same ten bands on a national level were nominated in every category. Godsmack won a thing or two, but I don't remember if it was Act of the Year, Single of the Year, Male Vocalist of the Year, Song of the Year, Video of the Year, or New Rock Band (Indie Label).

Last year? Godsmack won like half of those. I should add that on Thursday, Godsmack performed, too. Really fuckin' awesome performance. Great live band. The actual material? Um...

So. There's that "limited scope" that makes the whole BMA experience kind of surreal. Then, there's the twin thieves that rob the Indie categories of much street credibility. Specifically a)Popularity Contest and b)Lack of Knowledge. The "Popularity Contest" is just, when you see Kay Hanley and Gary Cherone nominated in the Indie category, you KNOW they're going to win. Right now, Kay's not doing a whole lot...sure there's the Josie and the Pussycats big happy accident. Last year Kay played out like maybe six times. Meanwhile, Paula Kelley has been working her ass off, released a great demo and a fabulous full-length, gone on at least three tours...

Kay won it. And Gary Cherone's new band, Tribe of Judah, also won a few things. Popularity contest. Oh, and the "Lack of Knowledge" thing? This band Flynn, the most sleep-inducing act I've seen all year, took home Debut Album. Eh, whaddaya gonna do.

To Be Continued...