My new band just released our cd (theHeavyGuilt.com)
Hello friends. What’s happening? Just a little announcement about my new band, the Heavy Guilt (don’t worry, it’s not that ominous) We have just released our debut cd Lift Us Up from This. It is my proudest creative moment thus far and I hope you folks enjoy it as much. It’s available on the old interweb at www.theheavyguilt.com or at 5029 Newport Ave at Cow Records Ocean Beach, I work there, so come by and say hello.
It features J Smart formerly of JFJO on Drums
Josh Rice from the K23 on keys
Sean MArtin and Jason Littlefield of Skirt Alert on Gtr and bass and Erik Canzona on vocals
I wrote the words
Also, if you are in San Diego, we'll be playing the Farmer's Market in Ocean Beach this wednesday
Much love
al
www.theheavyguilt.com

Hello good people of the mailing list, how are you all doing out there? As our keyboardist enjoys his honeymoon, the K23 Orchestra is enjoying a couple of weeks off. We'll be back at it with a big show opening up for the B-Side Players at the Wave House on Saturday, July 5 right here in San Diego.
3146 Mission Boulevard
Doors are at 4pm, it is an early outdoor show, right on the water
http://www.wavehouse.com/home.asp

But I digress
Sympathy for the wedding DJs of the world

Last week our keys player, Josh Rice got married. This is one of those special and rare occasions (thus far two times in seven years), where one can see all members of the K23 Orchestra dressed in their Sunday best. I had to make a quick pre-wedding pilgrimage to Target to acquire a white shirt with buttons and an electric razor to mow down the out of control lawn on the residency of my face (if you are at all concerned, I only received subtle injuries from the multitude of pins in the new shirt). It was a beautiful ceremony with flowers, smiling children, joyous tears, good friends and family. After the wedding we moved the party upstairs for the wedding reception which is where I learned a very valuable lesson. I DO NOT WANT TO BE A WEDDING DJ WHEN I GROW UP.  I've been to three weddings. I was on the fence about the first one, but I heard they were serving a gourmet fish dinner thus catapulting me over the fence onto the side of attendance. The next wedding I was the minister and the following was a couple of days ago. With minimal experience in the arena of weddings (I also saw the Wedding Crashers and an Office Episode where Phyllis gets married http://www.watchtvsitcoms.com/The%20Office/S03E15.php)
, I had little to no idea what was expected of the wedding dj. I was given free reign by Josh to play some classic funk and Motown stuff and in general things that I like. Now don't be afraid, I didn't take the "things I like" too too literally, I didn't play Mastodon, Old Dirty Bastard or Fantomas though I like them, I assembled a playlist of Classic R&B and 70s funk soul that I was pretty damn proud of, music that I could almost dance to (though you'll likely see Halley's Comet before you see me dance again, my guilty feet have got no rhythm) . The first hour of dj-ing was pretty smooth. Stevie Wonder and the Jackson 5 resonated with most people and I was feeling pretty good about myself and being alive in general. I realized that I was ruined when I played a live version of Bill Withers Use Me and the dance floor emptied. In my mind Bill Withers is as soulful as a humid New Orleans church service that comes with Fried Catfish (with hot sauce), Collared Greens (with vinegar), corn bread and black eyed peas, but apparently not everyone feels that way. At this point a young woman comes up to me and says "I know you got soul brotha, can you play some Usher or some Fatback" I believe that she asked for fatback, I stopped listening after Ush. I felt like my mom the first time I put Nirvana on the tape deck on the way to school and her raised brow posed the silent question "how is it possible that your ears crave such cacophony." I proceeded to explain to the young lady that I had 1700 albums on my hard drive and not one Usher song. She asked how was that possible. I held my tongue. After her a guy came up to me and had one of those one way conversations where my partaking was minimal, perhaps a muffled whispered yes to the following questions he asked.
1) Do you see the dance floor
2) Can you tell that something is wrong with it
3) Don't you think that you should….maybe….FIX IT!
I remembered at this moment that alcohol flows like water at the wedding reception and the loosened tongues had no problem pointing out my flaws at the position of wedding DJ.
At this point there is a formidable line of people leading to the DJ Booth. It looked like the line in Airplane to silence the frantic woman. First was a request for some Huey Lewis and the News.
Nope, no Huey on the Hard Drive.
Next was a request for some country. Now I have a lot of country, but I'm not certain that a Johnny Cash compilation entitled "Murder" was apropos wedding music.
Next was a request for Disco.  Nope no disco......
Next was a request for Hot Hot Hot. This was met with the question "as in Ole Ole, Ole Ole, Feelin Hot Hot Hot." Yes, that Hot Hot Hot. Nope, no hot hot hot on the Hard drive, but I do have a smoking instrumental version of Ain't it Funky Now by Jimmy MGriff.………..   Fortunately I remembered that I wasn't in my home and that I was there to be helpful and not a prick, if someone ever asked for Hot Hot Hot at my house, I'd feel totally  validated to punch them in the neck, but at a wedding suggestions are allowed to fly and fly they did.

After this was a request to hear something from the new Radiohead album, my favorite band of all time, but I tried hard to explain that if upbeat funk classics were getting me angry glances and placement in the doghouse, then morose dreary British avant guarde rock would probably get me assassinated, in hindsight not necessarily a bad out. Someone young asked for hip-hop, someone old asked for no hip hop.  In the midst of the pressure I accidentally played a raunchy Prince song instead of my personal DJ anthem "You Can Call Me Al", I sure later that night some poor child said mommy what's a insert profanity here, and for that I am so so sorry.  Then I realized that the job of the wedding DJ is to please everyone from all aspects and phases of a persons life, something to make grandma reminisce yet not bore the 17-yr old cousin to death, something for the rocker and the 80s nostalgic, the job of the wedding DJ is impossible. Fortunately Tasia Craft was able to bail me out with an ipod filled with some 80's classics that I forgot to download onto my hard drive. I thought I had emancipated from ever willingly hearing Faith by George Michael again, but alas, I now know that the 80s still lurk around all corners and inspire the dance floor like an upbeat sermon from a pop diva.

With Love
al
Congratulations to Josh and Laura and Family, Cheers to many good loving years to come


www.ahk23.com

After many many months the K23 will be playing in Portland, Or again tonight (Sat 6/7)

We will be at the goodfoot lounge. 2845 SE Stark Portland, Or 97214

Hello Good folks of the mailing list.  How the hell are you?  We're heading up to Northern California and Oregon this weekend and we hope to see you all up there.  The shows will go as follows. 

May 30 2008 9:00P
The Odd Fellows Hall Sebastopol, California

.. -->[if !supportEmptyParas]-->.. -->[endif]--> May 31 2008 2:00P
Mateel Summer Arts and Music Festival Redway, California
http://www.mateel.org/summerarts.php

.. -->[if !supportEmptyParas]-->.. -->[endif]--> Jun 4 2008 9:00P
Silver Moon Brewing Company Bend, Oregon
http://www.silvermoonbrewing.com/

.. -->[if !supportEmptyParas]-->.. -->[endif]--> Jun 5 2008 9:00P
Sam Bonds Garage, Eugene, Oregon
http://www.sambonds.com/

.. -->[if !supportEmptyParas]-->.. -->[endif]--> Jun 7 2008 8:00P
Good Foot Lounge Portland, Oregon
http://www.thegoodfoot.com/

.. -->[if !supportEmptyParas]-->.. -->[endif]--> Jun 10 2008 10:15P
Humphreys Backstage Lounge..ROOTS/Badu After Party San Diego, California http://www.humphreysbythebay.com/backstageMusicClub.cfm
 .. -->[endif]-->
Jun 13 2008 10:00P
Goat Head Saloon Mesa, Arizona
http://www.goatheadsaloon.com/

.. -->[if !supportEmptyParas]-->.. -->[endif]--> Jun 14 2008 9:00P
Flagstaff Brewing Company Flagstaff, Arizona
www.flagbrew.com

.. -->[if !supportEmptyParas]-->.. -->[endif]--> Aug 8 2008 8:00P
Summer Meltdown Festival Darrington,
www.summermeltdown.com

.. -->[if !supportEmptyParas]--> But I digress…….
My Black doppelganger…..or is that redundant

.. -->[if !supportEmptyParas]--> .. -->[endif]-->I live in a beach community, Ocean Beach to be exact.  And though there are a few African Americans who gravitate to ocean dwelling, the few is far between.  7 years ago, when I first arrived in San Diego, people frequently asked me about my son.  Questions like, "How is your son doing" and "Man your boy is growing fast" and the ever alarming "Where is your son".  These questions were generally met with shock and awe and a look that seemed to say "what e-x-a-c-t-l-y do you know that I don't know?"  After a few months of living here I met a black cat named Jacob, I also met his son and I also knew immediately that my ignorance of having a child confused several of his acquaintances over the previous months.  The more I think about it, I wonder if I ever got him in trouble, arriving home to an undeserved scowl with rumors abound of sightings of him with another woman or things of that nature.  Anyway, overtime people learned how to differentiate us and pick out the subtle divergences of our blackness, like the fact that we look absolutely nothing alike whatsoever.  Recently there has been a new confusion in town.  Over the past several months people have been calling me Patrick.  At least twice a week I hear someone fire the word Patrick at my back two to three times and the forth fades through lack of response.  A former girlfriend thought she saw me at a bar and left a message inquiring if I had once again tumbled off the wagon, I missed her call cause I was in the Library at the time, so I know that it wasn't me.  As we sound checked at Earth Day, I heard a distant "yeah Patrick" followed by a fainter "I didn't know Patrick was in a band."  I was in line at the Peoples Organic Coop in OB and I looked at the nametag of the tall skinny bearded black man ringing me up and sure enough it read Patrick, but before I could say anything he drew first and asked "are you Al Howard?"  He then listed off a litany of misidentifications including one in LA where a young woman told him "she loved the K23."  We discussed that perhaps one of us should shave or acquire or perhaps a more drastic approach, we could draw straws to see who's blackness would take a more Dennis Rodman-like approach.  As I left behind this conversation the black-light-bulb went on over my head.  Perhaps we could use our similar features to our advantage.  He could learn all the lyrics to K23 songs and go on the road when I'm sick, or walk through the crowd and be social when I'm in the shaky grips of anxiety.  If there is a family function he can't attend for some reason, I could just show up in his stead.  I went back to discuss this with him last week because I was worried that I had to miss my girlfriend's graduation.  I got there only to find that he had shaven off his beard.  Alas, no doppelganger for 3-6 months (is his facial hair grows as slowly as mine)

Hello good folks of the mailing list. How are you all doing on this fine afternoon/evening? Warmth is in the air, flowers are blooming, birds and bees are doing various things, spring is at the doorstep (minus the strange hailstorm the other night). This weekend the K23 Orchestra is on the way north (where spring may or may not be in the air quite yet, jackets will be packed either way) to San Francisco and then to Sebastopol to open the Guayaki Yeba Mate Café with a unique acoustic/electric offering, a hybrid if you will.

Friday, March 21st pm A night of the K23 (w/friends)
Mojitos 1337-1339 Grant Avenue, San Francisco
http://www.mojitosf.com/

Saturday Night March 22nd
7pm party begins, the K23 Orchestra will play from 9:30pm until ??????? (it’s all up to you)
6782 Sebastopol Ave, Sebastopol
http://www.guayaki.com/

A favor please.
One of the most fun moments that the K23 Orchestra has had with or without clothes on, was at the High Sierra Music Festival in 2005, in fact that is where we met a number of the "Good People of the Mailing List." The stars align just right at High Sierra and magical sonic moments are captured. Unfortunately, in 2005, the White Giant had yet to join our squad and complete our band in a way worthy of Jerry McGuire 2. We NEED to get the White Giant to the High Sierra music festival and you can help us get our name mentioned in their booking conversations. If you could please follow this link http://www.highsierramusic.com/community/viewtopic.php?t=3057&highlight=k23
It will magically transport you to the High Sierra Message Board.
If you can take a few minutes to sign up as a member and leave a kind comment about the K23 Orchestra, perhaps even a loving K23 show memory, you will have our undying allegiance and love, in the past that promise may not have meant as much, but now that we are offering the allegiance of our 6"8, 300Lbs guitarist, that allegiance is fortified immensely, no one will ever bully you or take your lunchbox again.

More Shows
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Sengthong’s Blue Sky Room
5841 Dunsmuir Ave, Dunsmuir CA 96025 (MAP)

Friday, April 4, 2008
Humboldt Brewing Company
856 10th St., Arcata CA 95521 (MAP)

Saturday, April 5, 2008
The Caspar Inn
14957 Caspar Road, Caspar CA 95420 (MAP)

On Tuesday April 8th Alfred Howard will be a special guest with the JFJO at Winstons for the release of their brand new cd
Lil Tae Rides Again
http://www.jfjo.com


Triumphant Return Home
I’m very stoked that our next hometown show is named, in the immortal words of Ron Burgundy’s infinite wisdom, the "Stay Classy" Charity Jam. It will be in the
Pacific Beach Bar & Grill and two adjacent parking lots on the corner of Garnet and Bayard Street in Pacific Beach, CA 92109

Stay Classy Charity Jam - April 19, 2008: The Stay Classy Charity Jam is an all day local music festival held in Pacific Beach, CA put on by StayClassy.org and held on Earth Day weekend. This year the event benefits a series of environmental campaigns that are led by Stay Classy and their non-profit partners. The event pulls some of the top talent in San Diego for a full day of live music, art, awareness, and fund raising. Stay Classy and Pacific Beach Bar & Grill have pledged to make the event as environmentally friendly as possible, complete with solar powered staging, green vending, a carbon offset program, and a bio-diesel car pooling bus running to various spots around San Diego. Over 2000 people are expected throughout the course of the day. Tickets can be purchased at www.StayClassy.org starting on March 15th, and will start at $35.

Saturday, April 19, 2008 7:00 pm
Pacific Beach Bar and Grill
860 garnet ave, Pacific Beach CA 92109 (MAP)

Thursday, April 24, 2008 8:00 pm
Fox Theatre
1135 13th St., Boulder CO 80302 (MAP)

Friday, April 25, 2008
Cervantes’ Masterpiece w/ Boom Box
2637 Welton, Denver CO 80205 (MAP)

Saturday, April 26, 2008 12:00 pm
University of Northern Colorado Spring Fest
1862 10th St., Greeley CO 80631 (MAP)

Saturday, April 26, 2008
Hodi’s Half Note w/ Boom Box
167 N. College Ave, Fort Collins CO 80524 (MAP)

But I Digress
The shit hits the fan when Olives are free
Yesterday I had the delightful opportunity to perform some spoken word at the Guayaki Booth at the Natural Foods Expo West. How to describe the Expo West…..hmmmmm. Well basically 2,800+ companies have thousands of health food products available for sampling through miles of aisles. There are lectures and seminars about all things organic and new means of cultivation and greener ways of productivity. It spans throughout the Anaheim Convention Center, which felt like an eternity hiking through the healthy buffet (2,800+ companies worth of health food sampling). Last year I had the same opportunity (even resurrected last years email below) and definitely overdid it with my eclectic sampling. The Greatest Organic Hits medley in my stomach made for an unpleasant chorus throughout the evening, though the recording went over well in Europe. This year I over did it less, I told my Hiatal Hernia and resulting Stomach Problem to go F%K itself, but it told me the same thing, thus keeping me in relative check. The event ended yesterday at 4pm. I did some poetry at about 2pm. There were people streaming by throughout the performance, but their focus, as it was for every booth at the expo, was on a quick taste-and-off to the next morsel. People walked by, took a toothpick to a poem, picked out a sentence or two and moved on to a sample shot of Heady Apple Cider or Flax Seed Oil. At 3pm a number of companies abandoned their excess products so they wouldn’t have to cart them on the plane. At this point there is a quite literal "free for all". The Kettle Chips were the first to go, bag after bag of Sea Salt and Vinegar;Tuscan Cheese and Death Valley Chipotle Chips were grabbed by busy hands. The Emergen-C packets were looted with swift ease. There was a degree of pushing and shoving, but more often subtle, polite positioning and patient line formation, that is until the giant olive bar went free and you could grab heaping bags of Gourmet Olives.

"When Olives are free, you see the True face of humanity" –Anonymous Olive Stampede Survivor

I saw an old man, who’s girth was widened by already-full bags of free food, barrel over two old women and push aside a small child to get to the sun dried pitted black olives, his bags moved people aside, his momentum unstoppable, his olives…….Acquired! I saw a middle aged lady fall trying to grab a bag of garlic stuffed green olives, like dominoes she took the competition with her. It was mayhem at the Olive Bar. People used their sampling toothpicks for protection, wielding them like miniature fencing foils. I looked at the Chaos from the vantage point of indecision, like a cowardly soldier gazing over the battlefield from a nearby mountain, like a nerdy child staring at 6-Flags’ Scream Machine. I love Olives, if Olives had legs and a brain, I would consider marrying one, but I also like my eyes and limbs. I opted for self-preservation and gathered 3 cases of Hemp Milk and a Surprise Bag. The Surprise bag was an unmarked plastic bag laying on an unmarked empty table, filled with brown nuggets which I knew to be one of three things, fake meatballs, Elk Pellets or the best God Damn Organic Coconut Dark Chocolate Nutty Dessert Treat Ever, fortunately it was the last. Having longer arms than most other attendants definitely came in handy, so if you run into me off the stage over the next 3-6 months, I can guarantee you it won’t be at the Health Food Store.
With Love
al
www.ahk23.com
Let your eyes travel south to read about last year’s expo
A short film of last years Expo
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vJZxZFAKdgY&feature=related

I am an avid fan of organic health food, so when I found out we were playing the Natural Foods Expo in Anaheim this past weekend, I got pretty freaking excited. In my head this was the snacking equivalent to meeting Ghandi and MLK at a Radiohead Concert where the attractive ladies sitting behind us were all unemployed masseuses. We arrived early and played our first K23 acoustic set centered on more song-oriented compositions. Thanks to guayaki for providing a space for us to do it as well as the yerba mate fuel to wake us all up. Before and after the K23 stripped session we walked around what was basically a small city of people offering free samples of organic foods. I entered the building, toothpick in hand, stretched and prepared to wander through a few miles of free food. The problem that faced me was the eclectic nature of the buffet which lay before me. In 2 hours I literally sampled several species of dark chocolate, thai food, pasta salad, vegan pizza, hemp milk, yerba mate beer, more chocolate, ginseng extract, Indian curries, iced teas, and the infinite etcetera that slips through the pores in mind. I was gradually reminded that any food in excess conquers its nourishing benefits, and though I knew that going into the Expo, my poverty and the utter freeness of the bountiful samplings conquered such rational lines of thinking. The organic potpourri, which churned in my belly, created the low cacophony of an avant-garde jazz ensemble playing through thick walls of stomach lining. After my stomach called to order an immediate evacuation all things returned to normal and the sampling began anew. What a beautiful day. The Expo was filled with the grand irony of a vast amount of plastic excess used to distribute the earth friendly products, but I guess it is one step at a time. This day was also filled with 3 K23 Orchestra shows in one day, which I believe is a record. The next morning I literally woke up sore, from walking, from snacking, from loading and unloading equipment a grand total of 6 times, from three gigs, from driving and from all too little sleep. We thought perhaps canceling our show the following day was perhaps a good idea, 2 or 3 of us were leaning on the doors of sickness, fatigue was thick in the air in the van, and we were opening for the opener at 9pm in Pasadena. But canceling shows is a bad habit to get into, so we toughened up and made the drive (the night before we drove back to San Diego from Los Angeles because the magnetic allure of your own bed is a strong one). Of all the gigs in the world which could have been canceled this was the one, a bar owner who wouldn’t give a complimentary glass of tap-water to the headlining band (this is not one of my al howard hyperboles, this is simple fact). We played for 38 minutes for 7 people, 5 of which were probably in the next band. Getting home that night felt as sweet as fresh air outside a DMV.
Be well
Peace
al k23orchestra@gmail.com

www.ahk23.com | contact

©2008 Alfred Howard and the K23 Orchestra

In the wake of 2 sold out shuttles from Ocean Beach to the Belly Up in Solana Beach for the Alfred Howard and the K23 Orchestra and Perpetual Groove concert on March 1st, Stay Classy, Southern California's leading philanthropic social networking company, are happy to announce an additional shuttle from Pacific Beach. For $15.00, the Stay Classy shuttle will offer a pre-party at Miller's Field, drinks aboard and a safe, rockin round trip to and fro the Belly Up.

The shuttle will depart Miller's Field (4465 Mission Blvd.) at 830pm and return from the Belly Up at approximately 1245am.

Tickets are available online at http://staging.stayclassy.org/catalog/event_list.php There are only 45 spots available so reserve your spot now!

Peace
al
www.ahk23.com

Hello good folks of the mailing list.  How the hell are you?  Has your mind been officially blow by the new layout?  This is of course assuming that the first email with the new look has reached your eyes safely, with all its colors, photos and magical links in tact.  This new look is hopefully the equivalent of adding a lightshow to the backdrop of any band.  I've seen swirling crimson luminescence transform a mediocre bar band into an arena-rock-new-years-eve-face-melting-titanic experience within 3-seconds of the first flash.  Hopefully the colorfully illuminated band mailer will remove your attention from my frequent type-os and recycled metaphors.  I tried to get a strobe effect on the text, but it caused seizures in several test subjects and due to impending lawsuits and minimal k23 budget, the band opted against it. 

The K23 Orchestra has shows on the horizon

We are very excited to be returning to the bay area very soon, in fact next week

..[if !supportEmptyParas]-->

..>..>

2.21.08	The Independent With Perpetual Groove
2.23.08	Boomers Bar and Grill
2.28.08	Soho Restaurant And Music Club W/ Perpetual Groove
2.29.08	Blue Cafe Huntington Beach
3.01.08	Belly Up Tavern With Perpetual Groove
3.08.08	the Goathead Saloon
4.03.08	Sengthongs Blue Sky Room
4.05.08	Caspar Inn
4.25.08	Cervantes
4.26.08	Hodis Half Note

..[endif]-->

But I digress

A name has been coined for this section of the band mailer where I vent the happenings of the prior week.  Over the past few months of taking time off from the road, the digressions have been kept as minimal as the sentencing of a well-connected white collared criminal, but on Valentines Day of last week we had our first show and it was definitely one for the books. 

Last week's Valentines Day was sculpted by the willing and steadfast loner who cares not for lovers, nor card corporations, the unshaven icebox who spits in the face of Hallmark and lies contently diagonal in his king sized bed.  The sky was bleak, bitter, strong and overcast.  If Chuck Norris were to walk into the wind it would slow his pace if not send him reeling backwards, and if Yao Ming fell asleep standing up in a canyon, it rained steadily enough to drown him.  I pulled out of my apartment to head towards the show at 5:00pm.  The flower stand across the street was embraced by a long line of cold and angry men trying to make last minute impacts on their significant others, it looked like the same line of men who would wade through crowds to purchase Justin Timberlake tickets against their better judgment.  Traffic was thick as a Robert Anton Wilson book and an eerie light played games across the windshield.  There was a double arched rainbow to the left, ominous rain clouds in the rearview, scattered accidents to the right and the clogged artery of interstate 8 separating me from the band meeting point at Steve Craft's house.  By 6:45 pm the band was ready and off towards UC Irvine to take part in a last minute booking of the school's hip-hop club.  We decided to chameleon ourselves into a hip-hop outfit for a 45-minute set, after all we have a black guy who rhymes capably and if we hid our drummer and hoodied up the remaining members, we could probably pull it off.  Hip-Hop events have the reputation of running behind schedule, unfortunately, I can only guess that this label has befallen hip-hop shows because it is an absolute and undisputable truth, but we'll get to that part of the tale in a little bit (thus the name of this section, But I Digress).  We arrived at UC Irvine a little after 8pm.  We unloaded the van, which after a few months of not lifting all that equipment, my body was definitely impacted in a not so favorable fashion.  On route to the show it was revealed to us that it was going to be an outdoor show.  In the spirit of V-day I brought my girlfriend along who had spent the last 4-months in the frigid high elevation extreme temperatures of the Himalayan Mountains, she was cold, freezing in fact.  Outside you couldn't tell who was smoking cigarettes or who was simply breathing.  If my mom was present she would have grounded me.  We set our instruments beside the stage and sat back and watched the show.  Most of the performers were young kids doing the hip-hop thing, a dj and a couple of MCs, some metaphors that probably wouldn't make the "not so rigid" cut for this band mailer.

"I've got more soul than the bottom of your shoe"-Some young MC, but not the Young MC-

I have to say that's not a lot of soul, certainly not enough to be boastful about, the soles on my shoes are pretty damn worn, so any MC claiming to have more soul than the bottom of my shoes is simply stating he has the bare minimum of soul to be alive.  More holes than the bottom of my shoe would be an impressive statement, but who wants a bunch of holes anyhow.

The only other line I heard that caught my attention was "I have more class than Zach Morris" which I'm assuming is a reference to the fictional Bayside High School student who really didn't attend that much class, now if that MC said "he had more class than Jesse Spano" that is an apt metaphor for a future all-star rapper, but what do I know, I'm still broke and living off peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (I've moved on up to Organic Jam) while some rappers with a 5^th grade education have Yacht races with the Hiltons, so apparently I am no authority on the subject of Hip-hop 101.  Anyway, my ear was focused and searching for potent rhymes of youngsters, I get to say that cause I turn 30 tomorrow, but the feedback emitted from the stage was far more tangible than the muffled words coming through a distorted and blown P.A.  Unfortunately for all of the spectators present, there was no one there to operate the sound.  When it began to feedback, MCs would ask the non-entity to turn their vocals up (the already overbearingly loud vocals being a huge cause of the feedback), then in the spirit of hip-hop, all the MCs cupped the mic (another big no-no in the realm of feedback), or made the mistake of pointing the mic towards the P.A. speakers or the monitor (which didn't work anyway).  The biggest problem was that none of the performers realized that they themselves were the cause of the feedback, so they disassembled and reassembled the sound system that they thought was at fault.  The K23 watched the drama unfold.  And though it wasn't as dramatic as the crazy episode of LOST that we missed, it was three hours longer.  Once 11:08 pm rolled around (we were supposed to take the stage at 10pm for a 45-minute set), two soundmen appeared from the shadows and discretely disconnected all the mic cables as we set up.  You see there is an 11pm curfew at UC Irvine and we were on the wrong side of the cusp.  Shhhhhh, finger to the mouth, don't tell anyone, but in all honesty this was ok with all of us, we were ready to travel towards warmth, loved ones, televisions and bed, the frigidity, coupled with the stink eye from lovers who wanted to spend the remaining hours of V-day spooning each other or spooning some ice-cream, had thinned the already anorexic crowd, our homes were calling us with all their wondrous amenities.  We were cold and though shaking a tambourine in the icy wind of February is one thing, playing a guitar or piano is a completely different story.  The coordinator of the event felt awful that we weren't able to play and coaxed the gentlemen in charge of the sound equipment to cut us some slack and give us one song.  We played, got paid and wound up kicking off 2008 with a GREAT financial ratio, one that we would like to continue on into eternity.  $166 Dollars per minute played.  I wish we played our full set instead of our shortest written song, not quite Justin Timberlake money or the Police, but enough to upgrade the PB&Js to Sushi.  I tried to fit a spoken work piece in there, but they literally pulled the plug which I think was a more impacting way to end the set, then we could complain about how we got shut down by "the Man". 

So cheers to UC Irvine for welcoming us back to the stage

Cheers to the lifting of winter in the upcoming weeks

Cheers to $166 a minute, minimum wage can kiss my ass

And cheers to good gigs on the schedule and some experiences to reflect on in the realm of the band mailer

With Love

al

www.ahk23.com

Hello good folks of the mailing list. How the hell are you this afternoon? First off, we miss your responses, so if you have a minute, drop us a line and say hello. We are driving somewhere in Kansas (next to a cornfield if that narrows it down, which it doesn't) and since our trial session of laptop Scrabble has expired, I decided to start up this weeks band mailer for the first time ever, from a moving vehicle, how exciting, fasten your seatbelts, we're heading home. I hope you folks are curled up by the fireplace and ready to read cause there are three weeks and a few thousand miles of K23 living to catch you up on. But first things first, this Friday we have a very important show at the Belly Up. We'd like to urge you to come and help us make that move to the next level, venue wise, in San Diego. Tell your friends, tell your enemies, sisters, cousins brothers etc. We promise an awesome show with some heavy guest, Sean Martin on guitar and Russ Gonzalez on Saxophone and some heavy AFRO FUNK ROCK. We were going to have Akil of Jurassic 5 fame do a few songs with us, but with a mere week left before the show his management decided to demand more money, in fact more money than our entire band would be getting, so we made the decision in the name of professionalism in the face of its lack not to give in to BULLSHIT and make a better show out of it anyway. So we called up our friend Deploi to bless the mic and Jose Maldonado of obcooperativerecords.com to play some percussion. There will be a solid wall of sound in a great sounding room, so please come up or down.


Saturday
08/04/07
w/Lexington and Audible Mainframe
Belly Up Tavern 143 S Cedros
Solana Beach, CA

We also have some upcoming dates through northern California


08/10/07
Harlow's
Sacramento, CA


08/11/07
El Portal Community Center
El Portal, CA


08/17/07
Ashkenaz
Berkeley, CA


08/19/07
Mt. Shasta Resort
Mt. Shasta, CA


08/20/07
Sebastopol Brewing Company
Sebastopol, CA


08/22/07
Sweetwater Saloon
Mill Valley, CA


08/23/07
Henfling's Tavern
Ben Lomond, CA


08/25/07
Miner's Foundry
Nevada City, CA


09/01/07
The Hog Wallow Pub
Salt Lake City, UT


09/02/07
Jackson Hole Mountain Resort
Jackson Hole, WY


09/03/07
Mystic Hot Springs
Monroe, UT


09/13/07
G Street Pub
Davis, CA


09/14/07
Earthdance (Black Oak Ranch)
Laytonville, CA

Alright, we've been on the road for three weeks and I'm hoping that my memory has the arm span of Kareem Abdul Jabaar and can reach back to the beginning of the journey for details.

The bus trip
I left a week early via greyhound bus to San Francisco. The bus left San Diego around 7am, a time so foreign to my cognition that a special a.m. delirium generally ensues. I always try to be as sloppy as possible on the bus to fend off any potential seat neighbors, it is more of a spatial thing than an antisocial thing. I generally don't shave for a few days and get that nice disheveled homeless ruffle to my afro, in all honesty it is not that much of a stretch. I want that seat next to me to look like a toxic place, a place that might smell like a skunk with a stomach virus, a place that comes with "bad vibes" and the danger of a whiskey stained verbal assault. Unfortunately it didn't scare off anyone and I was sharing my seat with a gentle elderly woman within a few seconds. We changed over in LA and through habit and perhaps some strange genetic predisposition I headed to the back of the bus. Anyway, soon after taking my seat I leaned against the window to fall into the uncomfortable and oft abbreviated Greyhound nap. To my surprise as my face hit the glass the entire window popped wide open and the upper half of my body sprung out the bus. This seemed rather strange to me, I had never seen the emergency window open before, maybe I was dreaming some early a.m. delusion, either way I was glad it didn't happen on the highway. Naturally I tried to close the window so I wouldn't fall out of the bus between L.A. and SF, within seconds of trying to fix the situation I was verbally bitch slapped by an irate bus driver yelling at me like I was a red headed step child not tamper with the window. The situation was kind of ridiculous and his tempered tongue wouldn't allow any space for me to explain what happened, all he kept saying was "get off the bus" until my neighbor told him that I didn't do anything but lean against the window.... I don't like to point the racist finger, but this guy just looked like he hated black people, he looked like Randy Johnson (not that RJ is a racist, but damn I'd cast him in a movie called Mississippi Burning in a heartbeat) in a Alabama bar off of a dirt road. It was at this moment that I realized that I am a racistist. I hate racist people, I cross the street when I see them coming, I turn the am radio dial when they're ranting political, and I don't vote for them in presidential elections. Anyway, although he calmed down and let me stay on the bus, he still insisted that I had tampered with the window as if I had nothing better to do on a bus when a college degree and a book to read then to tamper with the window that separates me from sudden highway death syndrome (for which there are no known pharmaceuticals for)


Allergies slap me around like a disobedient child, that's it

The sign you don't want to read
Apparently we (the K23) hate Spokane Washington, no we've never been punished by the music gods with a bad Spokane gig, the roadways of spokane did not give us the gift of flat tire and no Spokane resident keyed his multi-syllabic name into our vehicle. We merely pulled off the road in Spokane to pick up some lunch, we zigzagged through the city, sampled main streets and side streets, wasted all kinds of timeand gas and never found anything. I wound up settling for an apple and a carrot. I decided to eat the apple first. As we pulled out of town I noticed a highway sign that said "Leaving Apple Maggot Infestation Area" This ruined both the first and last bite of me apple.

Day off
Transformers movie Review (Spoiler Warning)
The highlight of the movie was the trailer for Cloverfield
I think all the other previews were slightly different variations of the same movie. You know, the one where an alpha male somehow acquires a child who's cuteness at first clashes with the dominant male lifestyle yet eventually the adorable preadolescent curbs the soon to be father figure's indulgent ways, staring the Rock (or Vin Diesel, or any of the infinite cast of steak headed actors who I hope aren't on this mailing list). Anyway, the movie sucked and I consider it an investment in day off pre-hotel check in Air Conditioning, the robots were awesome!!!!, (spoiler warning), but the black robot was pretty ridiculous and the fact that they killed him in the end was rather painful (perhaps that was just the Northern Idaho version). But, in a strange way the movie was impacting. Every time I drive and see a truck speeding up in the rearview mirror, I'm 40% certain that it will transform and rip our van to shreds.

Lohan :(
That's all

Al is a @&*^%@
We at camp K23 have some hippy tendencies. it is true, we'd rather save a tree than knock one down and we love some people and music and the Grateful Dead, tofu and nature and the infinite etc., we just happen to be extremely cynical about everything. I'm from the east coast, so I blame that, I don't know what's wrong with the rest of us, but we have sharp barbed tongues and we use them. Anyway, we were at this awesome family festival and prior to our set there was a gathering of everyone holding hands in an attempt to generate energy flowing through the evening. I made sure to hold Steve's hand because he's a germaphobe and doesn't want me to ever touch him, ever, and I sweat like an ugly high school kid who somehow landed a cheerleader date and I'm always sick. So, as the leader of the ceremony, decked out in matching tie-dye pants and shirt, waxed poetically about the sun, moon and stars and the infinite strands of connections woven between us and how each new day represents rebirth and and the night is death and the cycle repeats on into eternity and I'm sweating in Steve's hand and he's trying to let go and we're laughing and being assholes and everyone else is experiencing the beauty of oneness, the ceremony continues for several minutes. Immediately following we took the stage and the gentleman running the show in the matching sweet ass tie-die jumpsuit asked us if we want any beers. I responded that everyone will have beer, but I'll just have a water. And he responded "Alright Pussy!!!" It was awesome, he went from "embracing earth mother" to "alright you water drinking pussy" faster than any car on that show Entourage hits 5mph. I love my fellow hippy cynics everywhere, camouflaged and blatant, grace me with your loving mockery any day.

General Patton Napping
Mike Patton is one of the most brilliant, complex and prolific artist to ever touch rock n roll, he has his hands in so many musical cookie jars he makes cookie moster look like an anorexic teen. Many of his projects take the loud quiet think to the next level and when the passages of silence burst abrupt into a sound-punch it can startle you even if you are focused. Watching Ian and Matt fall in and out of sleep to a Mike Patton sudely orchestrated nap was very entertaining for me.

Apparently when we went through northern Idaho, we traveled through the white power capital of the states. Whether that is rumor or truth I took all necessary precautions and spent most of my time in the back of the bus behind tinted windows. I asked the Ian Wright, the White Giant, our loving nickname for our 6'8", weight unknown, guitarist if I could ride on his shoulders through Hayden, Idaho for protection. And although he declined, he watched my back through several strange glances. One guy wouldn't allow me to hold a door for him, but other then that our stay was pretty normal. Thanks White Giant.

(There are very few black people in Idaho, I believe we counted 6 of them in 4 days. 4 of them were on a basketball court, dominating the game and perpetuating stereotypes, the other two were doing laundry at a hotel and they were as shocked to see me as I them. I don't have any channels at my house, so when we're on the road I get exposed to new and wondrous tv programing I never knew existed, like these shows where they drop some commando/naturalist dude off in the middle of the wilderness with a swiss army knife and a compass and he has to survive for a week or whatever. I want to design a show like that where they drop a black guy off in a rural town with a 9 millimeter and a Tupoc cd and track their progress through these foreign environments. I think the comedic and adventurous possibilities are endless.)

Beardo Weirdo Basketball
Josh and I played some locals in basketball in Coeur D'Alene, Idaho. Josh had grown a thick beard so he could blend in at the Oregon Country Fair, and was only equipped with flip flops held together with super glue and some twine, I had on a pink Eric Cartman T-shirt and some tennis shoes. Everywhere we go, people ask us the same question, a question which is really more of a statement "You're not from round here are ya?"
K23 12 Local Teenagers 10
Yeahhhh that's right!!!

We saw it rain so hard in Sand Point Idaho that it knocked a bat right out of the air and onto a woman's chest. In an effort to remove the bat from her "chest" a boob was incidentally exposed, though I assure you that all k23 stares were all strictly on the bat and his successful removal.

All Apologies
I had to go to the bathroom so badly at around 2:54pm. We couldn't check into our hotel until 3pm. I was doing the dance and pacing around like a child who drank too much coffee and wonders if his/her mother knows........ Eventually I went up to room 210 and told the cleaning lady that she had done an efficient enough job and could go. I sat down and committed to the doing of dirty business when Josh knocked on the door and told me that I was in the wrong room and we were 209. So to the people of 210, my sincerest apologies for your not so virgin room.

We witnessed an old lady fight at a diner in Washington. It was awesome, something you don't see everyday, when Beatrice and Agnus combat verbally over eggs, heartburn and waffles. It ended in a climactic SHUT UP please, leaving me asking, how does one follow an abrasive SHUT UP with the subtle polite please. I don't know, but Agnus pulled it off and got the last piece of sourdough toast

The Rotary
I have a theory about the Nebraska Highway System. I think that there is one circular ten mile road through Nebraska and somehow the exits change sporadically. I think this because every mile I drove in Nebraska looked like the mile that proceeded it, kind of the way identical twins look similar. There would be a 9.5 miles of corn, then a church and then a KFC and then the cycle would repeat on and on into infinity. From above it must look like a vast ocean of corn, verdant waves rolling in the humid midwestern wind. As you move through the state the corn hypnotizes you, it lulls you into the abyss of driving as green streaks outline your periphery and tired eyes stare into the depths of black pavement. I came to the realization that if you were to microwave the state of Nebraska, the entire world (minus the recently deceased Nebraskan's) would be able to sit, buttery hand in hand together, and watch a movie, anything except Transformers, lets all see knocked up.


Hotel Pen Collection
When we go on longer trips we like to ease ourselves into affordable hotels as frequently as possible. It serves the bands stability well. The more rested you are, arguments over where to get breakfast are less likely to occur. I noticed that by the time we got to Montana I had a pocket full of thefted pens from various hotels, I like to use the Travelodge pens for prose, Super 8 for poetry, Ho Jo's for humor, Days Inn for set list and Best Western for picking my nose. We ran into Delta Nove along the road and when I went to borrow a pen from their road manager, Johnny B, he asked me if I wanted a Howard Johnson's, a Super 8 or a Clarion. Many are the similarities amongst touring bands.

The Fall Guy
Sometimes my mind works in a way that doesn't make sense. My thought process makes leaps that shouldn't logically be made. I think it has something to do with a lot of Fox programming through key moments in adolescent development. Somewhere in Salt Lake City, Utah I saw a giant mormon carrying a guitar. He was approaching 6'8" just like our giant guitarist. As I walked backwards, staring and thinking to myself "I'd love to see these two guitar giants fight in this parking lot, right now", I was punished instantly by a mormon god and I fell down completely. If anyone had filmed this it would have gotten a million hits on youtube because I went from vertical to horizontal in about .5 seconds and in trying to preserve the laptop I was carrying, I fell on my hip and my head. Luckily the afro protected the head, but my hip had a softball sized bruise for a few days. By the way, I have nothing against mormons, I'm even thankful to them for not allowing blacks into the mormon church until 1978 when a mormon church leader had a "vision" from God giving the ok to let the negroes in. That was one less obstacle for black folks before 78.


Trying to put these band mailers together is a fun little puzzle. 3 weeks after the fact I'll look at a page that says Black midget, Smooth jazz, Van Halen Mix Tape winding road passing suicide lane, golden eagle, bruised hip, snot rocket and living room apathy
And somehow that turns into a band mailer or song lyrics

Hummus biscuits
In the grocery market I asked a clerk where in the store I might find hummus. He looked at a row of different biscuits and butters for about three minutes before finally proclaiming
"I'm sorry I don't see it". I walked away very slowly, never letting my eyes stay from the clerk.

Somewhere in the midst of a set in Colorado a guy in the front row looks at me and points at the picture of beer on stage and asks if we are ok. I nodded since the picture was full. However, apparently he meant "are you ok with me drinking half of your picture, not pouring it in a cup or anything, just placing my unfamiliar mouth on your picture and drinking about half of it in a gulp large enough to put out a forrest fire." Unfortunately I didn't get all that from "are you ok" . Once again, the high elevation drunk strikes. The air is thin up there.
By the way, if you are on the mailing list and I ever make fun of you for doing something stupid please please please don't take it to heart, don't show up at a Winston's show with a motivated pocket knife or a well aimed beer bottle. Just remember in the immortal words of Krusty the Clown, "I kid because I love" and I've also been that guy a few thousand times, I think there are even pictures on our website of me being that guy.

Why am I singing Phil Collins????
Phil Collins has hits. There is no denying it, though they may be soulless, ball-less, synthed out 80's s&^t hits, but they are hits none the less, and whether you were raised by Metallica and tough leather, or Wu-Tang Clan and Timberlands, you know all the words to 'In the Air Tonight' and it sucks. Also, anytime you poop at a rest stop, Phil Collins belts out the hits as you drop your s@t. over the loudspeakers. It is inevitable, if you are at a rest stop for more than 10-minutes Phil will serenade you through your session. So, when you walk out of that bathroom feeling refreshed and ready for the road, but you're humming "Pseu-Pseu-Pseudio" at least you now know why.

Ian "White Giant" Wright was officially the highest elevation in Kansas for 2-hours until a star highschool basketball player woke up and stood vertical replacing him for the remainder of the day

Kansas Foxy Boxing
The one time we were running late the entire tour we drove by a front yard in Kansas with a boxing ring set up and corn fed ladies beating each other up...........and we didn't have time to stop.

Hitting a Parked Truck on a highway at 70 miles per hour
No, this didn't happen to us, but this is what I saw. As I leaned across seats in the van and ducked down to access my hummus, I looked up and somehow managed to be at the perfect and uncanny angle that would turn passing under a large metallic sign into the optical illusion of hitting a parked truck on the highway. And I reacted as such as four pairs of K23 eyes stared at me like I was crazy for jumping back at random with the soft sharp cowering whimper of the life's end.

Van is a WMD
Keep it like a secret! As we streamed home through the hot, moist midwestern evening, thousands of insects met their demise to our grill and windshield. As far as I could tell,
it was a quick and painless death, but the genocide was expansive. I tried to mask the widespread casualties with a filck of the windshield wipers, but the lack of cleaning fluid merely spread the Fear Factor jam across the Window. And when the lights hit it just right an astounded Josh questioned where the sudden tunnel appeared from. At points it sounded like a rainstorm, but nope, just thousands of bugs escaping the midwest by any means necessary.

This morning I woke up in a town called Liberal Kansas. The only thing liberal about liberal Kansas, is their liberal use of the word liberal. Every time we stopped at a gas station or a rest stop in the area we would get stares as if we were a group of naked leprechauns wearing "Vote for Satan" Shirts. At one point I was walking through a crowd of people eating a cardboard pint of fried rice and some guy grabs his wife and says, while pointing at my pint with mouth agape and with the drawl of the middle that David Cross can do so well "hey look there, Chinese food" as if I was carrying a black midget with a fake fur coat on a unicorn. We even had a woman stare directly at our California liscense plate and say "yall going back to Colorado", her speak and spell ran out of batteries shortly after the letter "c". We got on the first toll road my Cali senses had seen in a while and I was willing to give the gatekeeper anything to allow passage to the west coast, my first born, my credit card, my girlfriend, things I will not mention for the sanctity of the band mailer, anything, but all it took was $3.50 and 23 long hours of driving.

I love you San Diego
Stay Classy
al
www.ahk23.com