Thursday, September 30, 2004

My day just got a whole bunch more awesome.
...for the second time this week...FUCK!

I just learned – and maybe this has been common knowledge and I’m just an idiot – that Graham Coxon is playing the Futureheads and Franz Ferdinand show tonight as well! The only thing that would make this any better is if the rest of Blur came out of the wings, announced they were regrouping, and joined Graham on-stage. No, actually, the thing that would make that even better is if they regrouped and asked me to join the band as their mascot/tambourine player!

Apparently Coxon has been replaced by The Delays. Here comes that bad mood again...

Oh well, at least The Futureheads should be cool.
Serenity now, SERENITY NOW!

Photogal decides to get snarky while discussing tonight’s plans leading me to believe that I’ll be so tense I won’t be able to enjoy whatever show I end up at. Leave the house early only to get stuck in gaper’s block and wonder why people are such stupid fucks and wonder why people can't just look ahead and drive instead of gawking at cars that happen to run into each other. Stop to fill up on gas and decide that prices are re-frickin’-diculous, even in the ‘burbs and that at this rate I may be reduced to walking the twenty-eight miles to and from work as a cost-saving measure. Realize I’m going to have to work late tomorrow to off-set leaving early today -- which is why I tried to get in early today only to be foiled by the idiots on the tollway in the first place -- to make it to the show by seven tonight. My morning is seriously beginning to suck.

Until I throw on the Supergrass Is Ten disc with it's rifftastic melodies.

Now everything is all better.
Wacky doodle.

So I wake up this morning and feel totally drunk. The odd thing is that I didn’t go out last night. I actually fell asleep on the couch, while watching Super Size Me, by 9:30 or so. (Very rock, I know.) The discombobulation is peeling away as I type this but it was still strange to wake up and immediately think, “Should I down a couple Motrin in case I develop a headache? Waitaminute! I didn’t have anything to drink last night. What the-!"

I really have to roll though since I have to get in early so I can get out early. I got on the list for The Futureheads show -- they’re opening for Franz Ferdinand so maybe I’ll watch them as well – and I’m still undecided if I’m going to go catch Rachael at The Metro later. The Futureheads are a no-brainer, especially based on Karen’s raves and the fact that I think I’ve got Photogal coming along to snap some action shots. As for Rachael, while I love her and haven’t talked to her in months – and haven’t seen her since that over-packed secret show she did at The Pontiac for me just after she got signed -- I still get weirded out by being surrounded by throngs of fans adoring her when I still tend to think of her as an extremely talented little sister. My brother is going with some of his friends so maybe I’ll send a “hello” along with him if I don’t make it. I think I would like to see her though. It’d be cool to see her command the crowd at The Metro all by herself.

So on that note, it’s on to the exciting morning routine of letting the dogs out, eating some waffles and washing my ever growing mass of blonde curls. Again, how rock!

I mean, that’s hot.

Even if I don't make it to see Ms. Yamagata at Metro tonight I think you definitely should. If you're not familiar with her already -- and why aren't you? -- then read about her here and here. Okay, I'm leaving for real now.

Wednesday, September 29, 2004

Slack motherfucker.

Man I love that song. No time to write today, but I want to slap down the following:

That’s it, off to work. Must participate in corporate lifestyle and create goods and services that will serve both my needs and the needs of the consumer!

Tuesday, September 28, 2004


Go here. Download this album. Have a swingin' day!
Look into our eyes!
How can you resist us?

Aside from just being all-around handsome young devils, Rudy and I also make ourselves appealing to other folks by possessing an uncanny knack for playing songs that people want to hear even if they’re never heard those songs before. It is our mutant superpower. Or something like that. There’s lots of new music coming out right around this time of year so we’ve got lots of new stuff to debut tonight. Come on by Ten56 tonight and hear brand new and unreleased tracks by Fatboy Slim, Fu Manchu, Jimmy Eat World, Le Tigre, Marz, Pinback, Nancy Sinatra, The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion (and maybe even Nancy Sinatra with The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion since I have that too), Ted Leo/Pharmacists (geez, does this list ever stop?), Tom Waits, Brian Wilson and lots and lots of other stuff.

I will even play some Mark Lanegan since I am sad he got into a car accident a week ago today and, thus, had to cancel his Chicago show that was supposed to happen tonight. I am bummed, but Photogal is near-suicidal since Lanegan is her favorite male vocalist besides Jeff Buckley. Okay, she’s not suicidal, but she is even more bummed about this turn of events than I am.

So, in order to make up for our dashed expectations -- and to warm up for our Friday appearance at InnJoy – I think it’s fair to say that the Rudy/Tankboy set this evening will crush, kill and rule.

And boogie. It will definitely boogie too.

Yes, Virginia, it is early!

But when you're a transcontinental mover and shaker, sometimes these early wake-up calls are necessary to make sure all of the people are pleased all of the time.

In other words, I got a lot of stuff to do today and my only hopes of accomplishing it all is to drag my sorry butt out of bed and get out the door to work ASAP. Yes, boys and girls, I indeed live a life of high adventure!

...and finally, a Geekout.

Above are photos of the costumes for the new Fantastic Four movie. It just might not suck, although Jessica Alba is quickly pigeonholing herself as the go-to girl for comic/sci-fi dorks. Watch out Jess!

Monday, September 27, 2004


I told you I had photographic proof that when she was younger, Laura Bush (on the right) looked like an awful lot like Maggie Gyllenhaal (over there on the left.) Rowr!

Humorous occurrence of the weekend.

You mean, aside from getting just silly sloppy drunk with The Miranda Sound guys? Well, after I left them at SubT I wandered into this party next to the El tracks since I could hear rock music blasting out the windows of an upstairs apartment. Sure enough the place is packed and everyone is dancing. So I start dancing! (My apologies to anyone who was unfortunate enough to witness by so-called “dancing,” by the way.) I then look over and there’s Photogal dancing away as well! We had split up earlier in the night and, as luck would have it, we both ended up stumbling randomly into the same party! This was especially good as I got in some sloppy dance floor make-out moves. (Once again, my apologies to anyone who had to watch me get all slobbery with the PDA.) This was also good as it saved me cab-fare back home. It was a good night all around.

Friday, September 24, 2004

Funny ha ha.

I'm glad to see someone else is in more pain than I am today.

(credz Ultra for the pic)

The following statement is completely devoid of irony or any trace of sarcasm.

I was blasting Britney Spears Greatest Hits through my car's stereo speakers on the way in to work and I loved it.
I have no business breathing right now.

Last night started off well. Cultured, even. Sometime after missing Milk At midnight it took a sudden turn into Lynchian territory. So now I'm up late, which means I'll get into work later than usual (I can't actually be late since we have no set hours in my office) and that means I'll get home later than usual.

I'm staying in tonight, that's for sure.


Where did all my fucking money go? I walked out the door with enough cash to buy a couple multi-dic DVD sets. I woke up this morning with barely enough dough to buy a chicken sammich at White Castle.

Thursday, September 23, 2004


This can't be happening.

It's official: Saturday will mark Harry Volkman's last day as weekend weatherman at WFLD-Channel 32. The dean of America's television meteorologists will deliver his last regular forecast on the Fox-owned station after a splendid 55-year career on the air -- including the last 45 years in Chicago.

"It's a day that I approach with mixed emotions," said Volkman, 78, whose departure from Channel 32 is anything but voluntary. (full story)

Harry was the only reason I would even tune into the piece-of-crap local Fox News affiliate. I think the quote that his departure "is anything but voluntary" points out what a travesty this is...
A rare public service announcement
for my bicycling brethren.

By now everyone has seen the footage of a guy opening his Kryptonite lock with a Bic. Today Kryptonite finally agreed to exchange their theft-friendly locks with more daunting replacements.

Info on the exchange can be found here.

Okay, not a very rock and/or roll post, but I thought you should know, okay?

Also, please say this is true...

...but this guy says all four original members of Blur may be all chummy again...

I love that hair!

Is it coinicdence that two of my favorite women, Janeane Garofalo and Photogal, have both gravitated towards the same haircut? I think not.

(Photo cred Dirk Westphal)


You ever have one of those mornings where you’re just totally blank. Not happy. Not sad. Not really worried about anything. Just kind of blah. Well, that’s how I feel now. I think I might have gotten too much sleep last night since I’m definitely stuck in second gear this morning when, by this time, I’m usually speeding right along and metabolizing that first cup of coffee.

Maybe my mind is playing it safe since I know I’m going to be oot and aboot tonight. There’s a one night gallery show at Buddy and Jen, who bartends on our Sweet Alice DJ Night, told me to go since some of her boyfriend’s work is going to be up. So that should be cool. Then my buddies in Milk At Midnight are playing around the corner at SubT and even though I just saw them play last Friday I can never get enough of those guys. Funds are low so I think I’ll see if I can slip onto their guest list. (Whaddya say guys, can I sneak onto your guest list?)

After I think that the lovely Skid Marks will be spinning at Bar Vertigo. I love Skid’s taste in music so I expect it to be a rousing set sure to simulate the feeling of various varieties of pop-rocks going off in my pants. My only complaint is why is it only now that bar Vertigo is getting cool DJs? I used to live about a block from the place and now I live a fifteen dollar cab ride from there!

Anyway, it should be a fun-filled Thursday evening, that’s for sure.

Wednesday, September 22, 2004


The Mark Lanegan Chicago date may be cancelled...grrr...
Okay, I lied.

Here's another post.

Read the full transcript of the John Stewart interview from the O'Reilly Factor.

Here's a taste:

O'REILLY: You ask some serious questions too.
STEWART: Very rarely. Every now and again.
O'REILLY: Well, you asked me why I was such a bad person, didn't you, or something like that? Wasn't that a serious question?
STEWART: Did I ask you why you were a bad person?
O'REILLY: Yeah, I think so.
STEWART: No, I wouldn't have done that.
O'REILLY: ... "scum of the earth, O'Reilly," I think that's the way you put it.
STEWART: No, I wouldn't have put it that way. I think it would have been, why do you have such je ne sai qua?
O'REILLY: Yeah, some French. We're boycotting France, so I couldn't answer...
STEWART: By the way, I couldn't agree with you more about the French thing. They are such an important country, and I think really deserve a boycott.
O'REILLY: Yeah, they do.
STEWART: Because of the influence they wield in the world.

If I was gay I'd marry John Stewart. Thanks to Joe for the link.
Okay Danny Doom, I got that review done!

My observations of the Green Day show last weekend are posted at the Lost In Guyville column. Since Kill Hannah also played last weekend, let's revisit my review of their album here.

Now I've gotta go push my car into a new parking space so it doesn't get towed. Me so strong! Woot!

And that is today's post.

Tuesday, September 21, 2004

Goin' it alone tonight.

Well, kind of. Motörhead is in town and Rudy has decided that it’s most important to take this evening off to rock out with Lemmy and his three additional heads and I can’t say I disagree with him on that front. Luckily I don’t have to take on the slavering hordes at Ten56 all by my lonesome since Jenny Evil has so sweetly agreed to step in for one set and guest DJ. Apparently her new band Pica has their first show this coming Saturday and she’s gonna preview some of their new songs as well as undoubtedly playing everything from the Foo Fighters, to Slayer to Crosby, Stills and Nash. I will play new stuff by Pinback, Green Day, Tom Waits, Elliott Smith, Jimmy Eat World, Ted Leo and fun stuff like that. Oh yes, I will also play dancey music. However if you are truly down with the rock and/or roll then you already know that all the music I play is, in fact, dancey music.


I was at the gym last night and ran into not one but two Ten56 Tuesday regulars. Usually I never recognize anyone at the gym other than the "usual folks" I run into whenever I'm there. You know, the "usual folks" that you've never met but that you nod to when you pass each other on the street in the "real world." In this case, though, the regulars were in fact two girls I actually do know in the “real world” and it took all my power not to blurt out, "Um, let's just keep the fact that when I work out I'm a hot, sweaty, foolish-looking, big-humidity-haired dork, okay?" I mean, shouldn’t the gym be sort of a hallowed ground where we don’t actually “see” anyone else?

Instead for the first girl I just pretended my iPod was surgically connected to my head thus precluding any sort of conversation and while the second one caught me off-guard and got me to pull an ear-bud out so she could talk to me I'm pretty sure I didn't respond to her polite attempts at conversation with anything intelligible.

Yet further proof that I am so cool and handle all situations with perfect aplomb, no?

Um, no.

You're off the hook Dave.

Why? Those new Assembly demos you gave me last Saturday night absolutely kill. Does this mean that, in the words of The Blues Brothers, "You're getting the band back together?"

Monday, September 20, 2004


Why is Dave Suh at the Kill Hannah after-party instead of listening to DJ Tankboy last Saturday? This grave transgression could be forgiven if he was there for the hott girls, but he already has a hottt wife (and that’s her lovely self in the background) so he has no excuse!

Okay, he was at Double Door for my pre-Light FM set, and I can understand him ditching out because the remaining bands were not really to his taste since they weren’t really completely my cup of tea…but Kill Hannah?! At least he could’ve gone to Underbar with Rudy or seen Doyle in a tux at Estelle's or something, anything else!

Unless, of course, Trevia had an open bar, but somehow I doubt it…

It's okay Dave, I still love you. How can I get mad at a guy who seems to have the majority of UHF committed to memory? I mean, that's hot.
Dreams of a well-traveled man.

It must be because I fell asleep with Channel 11 on, but I had the best dream where I was drafted to be one of those folks with their own Public Television Show that traveled the world and checked out all kinds of cool stuff so folks could live vicariously through me. This means something, doesn’t it? What kind of credentials do you need for a show like that? Do you have to speak more than three languages to even be eligible for a job like that?

Aw, who am I kidding? One of the main things those folks have to do is sample the exotic local cuisine at each stop and I’m just not an adventurous gourmand. Something tells me the viewers at home would be pretty bored watching me eat macaroni and cheese in some hut in Pakistan of Thailand.

Then again, maybe that’s my hook! Follow Tankboy and watch him bumble his way around local customs and eateries. It might not catch on here in the U.S.A. but something tells me a show like that could be comedic gold elsewhere in the world.

Okay, enough fantasy. It’s six on a Monday morning and it’s time to face the fact that I’m at the bottom-end of at least forty hours of work this week. I’ve also got to go get the battery out of my car – that’s been languishing in an alley behind the garage of the last mechanic to look at it – and then arrange for a charity to pick it up. Oh yeah, and the gym…must make it to the gym since I slacked all weekend…man, being a grown-up can sure be a downer sometimes, eh?

Sunday, September 19, 2004

Um, last night was, um, interesting.

One: Green Day was terrific but I had to cut out in the middle of their "hits" laden encore to go DJ.

Two: Light FM was terrific but they were clearly on a bill they didn't really fit in. I felt badly about that but I'm making it up to them with the terrific line-up they’re on at the SubT show next month. Also, I told them they didn't have to pay me for setting up the gig either since I felt I had let them down. It’s rare that I make a booking misstep, but when I do I take full responsibility. They were good sports about the whole thing though...

Three: It sounds like everyone had a really late night/morning (7:30 am is time to stop drinking?) except me. I had a rather urgent situation arise and had to leave Double Door rather abruptly. Oh well, there's always next weekend when The Miranda Sound is in town. Those guys love their Jägermeister...

Alright, on to the couch to marinate in my own juices and watch a bunch of episodes of Dead Like Me. I love Sundays.

Saturday, September 18, 2004

In the ghetto...

Last night's Rockit Girl CD release show was awesome. It was so much fun that I actually had fun at the Evil E since my mood was so elevated. Nothing could bring me down. Hell, even my cabbie and I got along great on the long trek home. Here's a snippet of out conversation:

Me: Hey, do you mind pulling over at that White Castle? I kinda want a chicken sandwich.
Cabbie: Sure. Drive through?
Me: Nah, the line is too long. It'll take forever. I'll go inside.
Cabbie: Oooo-kay...
Me: Don't worry. I'll be back. And I tip really well.
Cabbie: Really, I'm not worried about you wandering far.
Me: My girlfriend says I'm crazy to go inside this Whits Castle at three in the morning. She says it's dangerous.
Cabbie: Your girlfriend is right. You are crazy. But I'll wait.

It was quite a delicious chicken sandwich and grape soda combo in the end...but they forgot my frickin' french fries! I was in such a good mood I totally didn't care though.

Tonght? DJing at Double Door supporting the always excellent Light FM...and I'm going to see if I can finagle my way into that Green Day show beforehand at The Vic. Wish me luck!

UPDATE: I've secured tickets to the Green Day show tonight -- where they're playing their new punk-rock opera in its entirety -- so look for a review of the show over at Lost In Guyville in the next few days. Yes!

Friday, September 17, 2004

I have gone through the great difficulty
of planning your weekend out for you ahead of time,
so pay attention.


If the show is half as fun as the CD Listening Party was
-- and by all rights it should be four times the fun --
then this is an evening not to be missed.
The show kicks off at 10pm sharp so don't be late!

More info:
Rockit Girl
Milk At Midnight
Cats Not Dogs
The Note



Saturday September 18
The Double Door

Stellar Road
Buddy Nuisance
Light FM
Air This Side Of Caution
DJ Tankboy (hey, that's me!)

Show starts at 9pm with me spinning before and in-between bands.
Light FM goes on at 11pm.
This is a co-production with Shoeshine Boy Productions.


Billy Joe Townshend?

I’ve always been a fan of Green Day, and forgave them long ago for spawning the faceless hordes of mall-punkers we suffer on the radio today, though I admit to being left a little cold by their attempts to “expand their horizons” over their last few discs. The band is at its best when ripping off the Buzzcocks while injecting their tunes with sugar laced arsenic.

Their new disc, American Idiot, has been cemented in my CD player. When I read they were composing a punk rock opera complete with nine-plus minute songs I was wary, to be sure. The end result blows anything they've done in the last ten years completely out of the water. The melodies are tight and when the studio adventurousness makes its way onto the album it is always in the best interest of the song so nothing sounds pretentious or out of place. Simply put, this is one of the best rock albums of the year. I can’t wait until it comes out next week and everyone else can hear just why I’m raving and drooling like a maniac.

And with that, fair reader, I bid you adieu. Hopefully I’ll see some of you at the rock and/or roll events I have laid out for your enjoyment this weekend, but if I don’t; stay safe, drive sober and don’t mix margaritas and Jimmy Buffet or I’ll have to knock down your front door and thoroughly kick your ass you stupid Parrothead!

Um, I mean, have a nice weekend!

Thursday, September 16, 2004

Today will be boring.

After yesterday's milestone I'm a bit drained. If I have time later maybe I'll post an amusing picture. Aside from that, let's all take a moment to peruse the archives or do the clicky-thing with the links to our left.


Wednesday, September 15, 2004

Fuck "Rock The Vote."
We need something to REALLY motivate people.

I think Votergasm may just be the way.

I made my pledge at the "Patriot" level:

I pledge to have sex with a voter on election night and withhold sex from non-voters for the week following the election.

I would have pledged at the "American Hero" (no sex with a non-voter for four years) but wasn't willing to take that risk...

NOTE: I'm guessing this works best if you already have a significant other and are therefore guaranteed sex on Election Day. Hell, this is a great reason to insure sex with your loved one!@ If you're single, well, I'd avoid the Votergasm Election Night Parties themselves since they'll probably be populated by balding, fat simulacrums of The Simpsons's Comic Book Store Guy.
And now, for number five hundred and one.

Apparently that girl that took pictures of me and Rudy with Bachelor Bob has been out of the country and just got back. She was nice enough to stop by the bar last night and give us some copies. One has us boys surrounded by lots of women. However Photogal reads this so I have decided not to post us surrounded by the hotttness. Instead, I have decided to post this pic of Bob leaning lovingly on my head. Seeing how long my hair was back then reminds me that I, again, really need a haircut.

To quote Bob himself that evening, “Good times…good times.”

Five Zero Zero.

Wow, this is my 500th post. I feel I should announce something earth shattering here to mark the occasion. Let’s see, what deep, dark secret can I unleash on the world to truly chisel this momentous occurrence firmly and deeply into the cornerstone of time itself? I mean, I am a man of deep emotion, unending mystery and charisma equal to the gravitational pull of at least a medium sized moon, right? There’s gotta be something shocking about me I can reveal, come clean about or just generally get off my chest, right?

Um, I get really sweaty sometimes? I have a third nipple? I like peanut butter and baloney? Hmmm, I guess I got nothin’particularly earth shattering, eh?

A lot has happened over the course of the last 500 entries. Some of it’s been good. Some of it’s been bad. Some of it’s been so good that I don’t really remember what happened aside from a few random stokes on a keyboard but at least I have the marker that something happened. When I started this thing it was meant to be an archive for the Tankboy e-mail list that had been in action since 1995, but that idea fizzled relatively quickly as did this site in general until I hit the unemployment line and found a whole bunch more time on my hands to write. And get in trouble. Which is what made what I was writing even moderately interesting in the first place.

Now I’m noticeably older and struggling even more with the transition from “bar-star/rock and/or roller” into “mature and functioning human contributing to society in the daylight hours.” I really don’t know if I’ll ever fully make that transition since I really don’t know if I actually have it in me to completely adopt that lifestyle. Of course if you had told me back in 1995 that Green Day would be releasing an album with not one but two nine-plus minute songs I would’ve called you crazy so I guess anything’s possible.

Ultimately, I’d just like to say thanks to everyone who drops by to read every once in a while (or habitually since that’s even better, in my book) and I love it when folks leave comments even though I fought against installing comments at the very beginning. I’m also deeply indebted to everyone who has ever linked to me through their own site and directed complete strangers over my way. I like strangers. I especially like strangers in dark alleyways with as little clothing on as possible. But that’s really neither here nor there in the context of this post, is it? Erm, getting back to humility and gratitude now…

Anyway, thanks for sticking around and I hope to keep running into you , and hopefully your friends and your friends’ friends and so on and so on, on the site and I’ll do my best to keep writing stuff that at least isn’t totally moronic.



Inspirato answered by
Rockit, Rockit, all of my Rockit Sauce.

Last night killed. Really. It was a blast. The new Rockit Girl album was really well received, cupcakes ended up flying through the air by the end of the evening and much dancing was committed on slippery surfaces as folks navigated their way around spilled beer, chips and frosting. On top of it Kip saved me almost twenty bucks by giving me a ride home so I didn’t have to catch a cab! What a swell guy. Truth be told, I wanted to go out afterwards but if I had I would’ve ended up oversleeping this morning. Actually, today is the earliest I’ve been up on a Wednesday in a while so I’ll actually get in to work kinda early. What’s up with that?

Oh well, something tells me up be up rather late Friday after the Rockit Girl CD release show, and then I’m pulling a High Fidelity and DJing at Double Door on Saturday so something tells me I should get all the rest I can right now since it’s gonna be a rough weekend.

By the way, I know how every guy says they totally identify with High Fidelity and it's totally like their life, but I actually had friends call me when the movie came out (apparently my friends can't read or they would have called me when the book came out ) to comment on how creepy the similarities were between myself and the lead character. Right down to the phone calls to ex-girlfriends and screaming in the rain (don't worry, I've outgrown that by now.) And the DJing at Double Door part. The primary difference? While my music collection is large enough to stock a record store I have never actually owned a record store. Or had sex with Lisa Bonet. But those are the only places our stories differ.

And in honor of my 500th post
here's a positively Sin-ful gift just for you.

Check out this reeeeally long trailer for Sin City. I am salivating all over myself right now.

Tuesday, September 14, 2004


...and of course afterwards
we'll be spinning all the songs you love
(even if you don't know them yet)
until 2am...

More info:
Rockit Girl

Monday, September 13, 2004

Lenny Bruce.

I want this so badly but there is no way I can afford it. However, why is there no "Thank you, Mask Man sketch included?

(audio link courtesy The Trials Of Lenny Bruce)
Suffering band withdrawal.

They’re not always my cup of tea but I caught a few songs by Premium (featuring a two-guitar attack augmented by former guitarist and swell guy Scott Spidale) and was digging it. There was one tune that had dueling guitar lines like some aggro-Skynyrd hybrid that was really impressive. It was as I was leaving the club that I realized that I have been sorely missing the live music experience. This was hammered home as I strolled over to Liar’s Club to meet everyone who had seen The Killers (post show consensus: the songs are terrific but the band is BO-ring on-stage) and realized that I had just missed a gig that could’ve been really fun. It’s partially my fault for not securing tix or sliding onto the guest-list but that merely underscores I’m a tad out of touch with the music coming through town. This is quite a jarring shift coming from a guy who was catching live music six to seven nights a week a year ago.

Luckily a remedy is shaping up since I have two shows – see sidebar to the right for more info – I’m promoting this week. Also, based on the persuasive writing of Karen Plus One I’m going to try and get into the Franz Ferdinand show to catch brimmin' with buzz opening band The Futureheads. Mark Lanegan tickets are already on the fridge for his show at Double Door which doubles as his first solo appearance in the Midwest since, well, forever as far as I’m concerned. On top of this I have more shows in the works – I was lazy over the summer but my need to crush my growing ennui and my need to make some more dough to crush my shrinking debt have spurred me on – and I’m working on some extra DJing wherever I can.

Sore sore SORE.

This was the weekend of severe muscle pain for me and Photogal. Saturday I hit the weights at the gym for the first time in a month – I’ve been trying to get back on the cardio bandwagon over the last two weeks but had been avoiding the weights – and made the mistake of following the same routine I was following a month ago. The result? Searing pain Sunday and today from all the muscles I ripped the hell out of. Not good. On top of that, last night Photogal got thrown from a horse she’s been working on training so today’s she’s literally walking like a ninety-year-old cowgirl. Luckily there was no chipping or breaking of any bones but I have a feeling there’s a massive bruise a-brewin’ under her skin.

You’re going out on a Monday...what?!

It’s true, but I’m not really going out. If that were the case I’d be going to the Bottle to catch Thunderwing. Instead, due to some free tickets, I will be at the Cubs game tonight. See if you can spot me in the crowd! I’ll be the one reading The Atlantic, or my latest short-fiction purchase Bestial Noise: The Tin House Fiction Reader, while trying to juggle both a hot dog and a beer and mayb some nachos. Please don't make fun of me,l though, for not cheering at the appropriate times. I dig the ballpark and the people but just can't get into the game itself, okay?

Friday, September 10, 2004

Some lighter fare before the weekend?
Okay, don't mind if I do!

I don't want you all stumbling off into the weekend thinking that Tankboy is a cranky over-literary stick-in-the-mud, so I offer this up to you:
The Ten Most Hated Men in Rock
(Besides Sting)

This is very, very funny even if you don't agree with all this writer's choices. As an added bonus you can print out you own "Least Wanted" signs to hang around town totrumpet which choices you endorse as "total suckmeisters." Fun!

Oh, that's not enough to send you into a jolly weekend tail-spin? Well, then what about this:

That's hot!
You go Alex!

Up early with heady thoughts on youthful development.

How is that for a pretentious sounding title?

I can’t sleep due to my brain’s recent penchant to ceaselessly churn , so I’m going to see if banging out a few observations will allow the furnace upstairs to cool a bit. My brother mentioned to me last weekend that he had finally seen the Hollywood adaptation of Ayn Rand’s The Fountanhead (the one about the buildings, not the one about the trains; that seems to be how everyone tells her two most famous works apart) and that it had done absolutely nothing to convince him further to read any of her books.

I kind of laughed at the time but the more I reflected on his words the more I realized they kind of bothered me. Like, arguably, any writer adapted for the screen it’s safe to say that Rand’s original texts paint a far richer picture – and this is especially true for a lengthy piece with more nuance like The Fountainhead – than any film distillation could hope to capture. When I was younger I fully bought into Rand and her philosophy of Objectivism and the romantically stoic and ultimately selfish lifestyle she presented. Man lives and dies alone and all that he gathers or does should be carried squarely on his own shoulders. How gallant. How noble. How ultimately flawed by its complete avoidance of the fact that human beings possess emotion and tend towards empathy for each other even when it’s not in their best interests.

Anyway, I thought about my brother’s off-the-cuff observation and decided he was missing something by not having read Rand. The catch is that I don’t think I would press him to much at this point to actually read her. I’ve come to believe Ayn Rand falls into that lexicon of writers that really should be read at a certain stage of life. She should be discovered shortly after Catcher In The Rye’s influence has started to wane on the individual and shortly before the influence of Bukowski’s drunken bluntness helps to pare down the words written and spoken. I believe there are a whole slew of writers that are terrific for opening an inexperienced mind to new vistas and are delicious and necessary reads at a certain point. The downside to this is that after that point, if one has already grown beyond the capacity to approach these works with wide-eyed wonder, writers cherished by some might be dismissed by others as redundant or silly. Here I’m going to break out my trusty Jimi Hendrix reference: people born today have no idea why Hendrix is considered by the “Great White Rock and/or Roll Canon” as being so terrific and the reason for that is that they’ve heard what he’s done copied and diluted by so many imitators that the original work becomes obscured.

Let me take this a step further. As I’ve grown older I’ve been able to see that The Hendrix Principle may be flawed itself since, face it, Hendrix was great more due to his willingness to go out on an edge and risk embarrassing himself than to his technical brilliance. I think the same could be said of the writers I’m thinking of here. If you want a more extensive list of what writers I’m thinking about, just walk around a college campus of hang out at a coffee shop that isn’t a Starbucks, and you’ll see the books littering the tables. There’s Burroughs’ Junky, and that table has Kerouac’s On The Road. Oh, and that cat’s reading Hesse’s Demian…and there’s Rand’s own Atlas Shrugged underneath it on that coffee and sugar streaked and cigarette ash laden table being held up be three books of matches under that one wobbly leg.

I think all of those authors mentioned are important to read at some stage of one’s development as a reader. You can never be too old or too experienced to read them. However you can be too far along in your development to truly appreciate them with the wide-eyed wonder of the novice becoming the pro. And that’s why I wouldn’t push my brother too hard to tackle Ayn Rand at this point; but if he does, while I think he’ll be pleasantly surprised I know he won’t be overly impressed.

Not anymore, at least.

Where in the world will Tankboy be this weekend?

Well, know I'll be taking in some of the Around The Coyote stuff tonight since tomorrow the whole thing gets over-run by suburbanites and yuppies. I'm not saying I expect to even see anything good since the stuff shown is maybe a notch above a craft fair,but Photogal likes to go on the hunt for undiscovered greatness (and there usually is some good jewelry at least) so I'll tag along and mooch some free wine from a gallery or twelve. Whatever other social plans I do have will probably center on very cheap entertainment since the funds are frighteningly low. Anyone know of any parties where I can park my keister with a twelve pack or something?


Thursday, September 09, 2004

Let's just pile on the misery, shall we?
It's a regular frickin' pity-party around here!

On top of everything else I have a fucking cold. In September. That totally blows. Like, gag me with a spoon, that's so grody. Fer shure.

I'm not used to being in a funk like this. Usually I'm a pretty easygoing fellow, aside from the usual artsy brooding that comes with the territory but nothing near the level of, say, an undergrad smoking cloves in a coffeehouse for gosh sake, but right now I'm definitely on the verge of suffering a case of the official patented Holly Golightly approved "mean reds." I'm sure it'll pass, I just need some quality time with the one thing that always makes me feel better. The one, the only...Betty the Beagle
I grow weary under this burden.

Lately my mood has been analogous to a giant squid capturing its prey; dark, inky and dragging me down. A succession of bad days has done wonders to cloud my usually bright outlook on life and there’s no relief in sight. Money problems, car problems, problem problems I’m not even going to go into here, and a general lack of sleep is not helping. All week I’ve been up early and all week I’ve gotten into work much later than I wanted to since the commute depends on me securing a vehicle each day. Today I had to venture out to Palatine via train and then to my Mom’s via foot and then to work via my brother’s freshly repaired motor vehicle. It appears as if my own vehicle is not salvageable for under $800 – $800 I neither have nor will be able to secure at any point in the foreseeable future – so for now I am dependant on the kindness of others.

The only bright side, and this should give an example of how dark my mood really is, is that I have a lot of work to get done right now so at least my mind will be occupied by something other than my current bleak situation for at least eight hours each day.

Wednesday, September 08, 2004

Rock and/or Roll.

I’ve been kind of silent on the band and concert front lately, I suppose. Blame work. Busy busy busy. Anyway, I have apparently been drafted into a band with Kip and Jim from America’s #1 Sweetheart and John from American Cosmonaut. The master plan is to write one insanely catchy pop song and then blast through a bunch of other songs. First I need to get part of my drum set back from this guy Sascha. If this actually pans out it’ll be a little off playing drums in a band rather than singing. Hell, the only bands I’ve ever played drums in never actually took too much time to actually write songs so we’ll see what happens.

Also, Gina gave me an advance copy of the new Rockit Girl disc and it is tee-rific. Seriously. This will blow you away. I’ve teased her over the past year about the glacial pace with which this album proceeded up until this point but now I see why it took so long. It takes a lot of work to craft something as kick-ass as this disc. I’m going to hold off reviewing it in hopes one of the other Done Waiting folks will – I don’t want to be blamed of bias – but I am happy to be hosting both the listening party at Ten56 next Tuesday with Rudy and the Rockit Girls. I’m also throwing the album release show/party at The Note the following Friday (see the Tankboy Events side-bar for details.)

Seriosuly addictive.

Seriously. 3-D Pong. Play only if you have nothing to do for the next hour or two...

I'm behaving myself and waiting until I get home to indulge my inner Pong.

Tuesday, September 07, 2004

Golly gee willikers, what happened to Tankboy?!

Glad you asked. This Sunday, on my way to vacation in Michigan to meet Photogal and her already vacationing family, my radiator decided to die and spew smoke all over the road thus rendering my car paralyzed. I pulled over and waited 2 ½ hours (thanks for the speedy response AAA) for a tow back to Chicago. Then I borrowed a friend’s car and repeated my trip with the primary difference that the second time my car didn’t break down within thirty miles of my goal. The downside? I got to our cabin after nightfall and was doomed to only enjoy the little town we were staying in for less than sixteen hours. Then I spent most of Monday driving home. Teee-rific.

Oh, but things get better. I think a timeline is best to tell the second half of this tale:

6:00 – Tankboy arises, eager to get to the office early since he has to DJ tonight.
6:15 – Tankboy smiles as he watches his dogs frolic adorably in the backyard. He absentmindedly scratches Chloe the Cat under her chin while sipping a cup of coffee. All is right with the world.
6:45 – Breakfast was delish. Truly.
7:15 – My brother has graciously lent me his car while mine is in the shop so I pull out of the garage and turn on the radio.
7:30 – Drop off DVDs¹ I’ve watched and then the dry cleaning.
7:45 – Hmmm…why is smoke coming up from the hood. Déjà vu.
7:46 – Why the fuck is the temperature gauge reading through the roof?!
7:50 – Thank god a gas station. Time to buy some coolant and see if that helps.
7:52 – Yipes! I guess, judging by the coolant turning to steam and trying to scald me, I should let the engine cool down some more!
8:00 – Is this long enough?
8:01 – Nope.
8:30 – Call my boss and tell her I might be late if I need a tow.
8:50 – I need a tow.
9:00 – AAA says they’ll get a tow-truck to me within the hour.
10:00 – AAA says they’ll get a tow-truck to me within the hour.
10:45 – The tow-truck arrives! Off goes my brother’s car back to the suburbs and off I go to catch the Blue Line into the city since Photogal has, rather bravely given my last two days’ track record with cars, offered me use of the most awesome and stereo-riffic Jeep Wrangler. (Yeah, I drive a ghetto car with personality; she drives a kick-ass car that people wave at.)
11:30 – I’m downtown and off the train.
11:31 – Why do people just stand on an escalator? Y’know it just makes sense to walk while the stairs are moving so you save time. Losers.
11:35 – Okay, why is this guy walking so slowly and why can’t I get around him. Fucking tourists.
11:37 – I can’t believe that semi almost backed into me. What the hell is going on?
11:45 – I arrive at Photogal’s office downtown. I am in less than the best of moods.
11:47 – I hear from my mechanic. I need a new radiator. It will cost me $302. I do not have $302. I am in debt. This completely sucks. I tell them to make the repairs figuring I might just sell my car for $302 and buy my brother’s car once it’s fixed.
11:55 – I hear from my brother. His car is safely in the ‘burbs, but he doesn’t know what’s wrong with it yet.
12:00 – Photogal walks me to her garage, and I take her most fabulous car.
12:01 – My hands are sweating as Photogal has made it plain that if anything happens to her car I am a dead man. No matter what, it will be counted as my fault. If a semi jumps off an overpass and lands on top of me it is my fault. If an airplane drops and engine on me it is my fault. If I get strafed by terrorist or insurgent gunfire it is my fault. You get the idea.
12:35 – I finally arrive at work.
12:45 – My brother calls me to tell me that his radiator needs to be replaced and it will cost him over $500. I begin to mentally adjust my car’s possible selling price upwards as I visualize my brother’s asking price escalating. I decide to start checking The Reader for used cars and decide to write many angry letters to Metra for not running a train out to where I work on a regular basis.
12:48 – I begin to get really bummed about how broke I am and begin to wonder if moonlighting as a stripper might pay the bills. I realize that given the trauma most women would suffer after seeing me naked I would only incur more bills as my court costs mounted. I instead decide it’s time to start booking more shows around town.

Also, maybe I should start selling Tupperware on the weekend?

6:15 - Photogal calls to tell me she is at the garage and, even though I was told my car was done, the mechanic claims it needs another $300 of work done. I tell them to put the old radiator back in and am now weighing the option of a) pushing the car to another mechanic to get a second opinion or b) donating the durn thing to the American Lung Association and taking the tax write-off. The only thing that really has me stymied is that I have no idea how I'm going to get to and from work since no train runs out there...double grrrr...

¹Paycheck (not as bad as I thought it was going to be and rowr rowr Uma) and Dummy (tender and sweet and rowr rowr Milla.)

²Okay, I'll be honest here...I'm not sure if the Addendum should come before or after the footnotes, but in this case I'm going to guess it's after.

My car blew up.

Yeah, my car blew up this weekend, so I borrowed my brother's car. Then that car blew up!

Okay, neither exploded, but both are un-drivable right now. Details later...

Until then, I’m using this attitude-laden picture of my nephew to cheer me up since my mood is most foul.

Something else that’ll cheer me up is my teaming up with Photogal tonight at Ten56 whilst Rudy takes in Tommy Stinson at Double Door. Rock!

Friday, September 03, 2004

Have a nice weekend but, for goodness sakes, be careful on the dance floor!

(credz whoever came up with that image)
Oh yes, I almost forgot.

Please come by the Beat Kitchen tomorrow to catch the show I put together for King Radio (orch-pop, Pet Sounds-era Brian Wilson-type stuff) Age Of the Rifle (very Jon Spencer Blues Explosion-y) and Mickey from Gidgets Ga-Ga doing an acoustic set. All three bands are quite good, but the club takes an unusually large chunk out of the door and it's a holiday weekend so I need warm bodies to show up so I can give the bands some money for gas and drinks. I've already given up hope on making any money for myself off this show so please at least come out and help some fine musicians.

And if lots of people show up then maybe I can even afford to buy myself a drink or three!

Okay, this time I can partially blame the neighbors. Apparently some of the kids next door just got home and were making a lot of noise in the basement and that woke Lucy up, and she started barking, which woke me up. And now I can't get back to sleep.

I've noticed I'm having problems sleeping in the house anyway. The first night here I had this really freaky dream about a little girl with pigtails being killed here and, while I know the event is a complete fabrication of the over-active pre-adolescent mind buried somewhere deep inside of me, I'm still weirded out by it. It seems that if I fall asleep on the couch I have no problem sleeping but if I relocate to the bedroom the creepy dreams tend to surface.

Come to think of it, whenever I sleep in the bedroom I tend to have really vivid dreams. Not always spooky, but the nocturnal trips definitely seem to stick in my mind much longer than usual after I wake up. How Amityville.

Well, I'm up, so I may as well get into work early again. I had a major itch to go out last night...right up until I crashed out after watching the last few episodes of the second season of Six Feet Under. Man did that show start slipping. Anyway, tonight I definitely want to hit the bright lights, big city scene and think I might even take in some Live Band Karaoke. I haven't seen them in months and, since I’m the one who got them started in Wicker Park, I feel like I've been negligent. Plus, I always have a really good time at their shows. Double plus-good, it's the Karaoke Dokies tonight and I want to as Scothc how his first show at Double Door with his new band Shitake Maki went. Who knows, I may even maul a tune or two myself and relive my days of actually fronting a band...

Watch this space!

Later I will post a picture proving that Laura Bush once looked like Maggie Gyllenhaal, ergo she was once super-hot so at least Dubya has done something right over the years by hooking up with here way back when.

In other Bush woma-news, I still find the Bush Twins far more annoying than cute. They're obviously just as clueless as their pops, and since they have no real power they're much less dangerous and deserving of pity, but that still doesn't mean I should be subjected to them. However if either girl wanted to throw a few free drinks my way, since they seem pretty fond of doing a little playful boozing and I've never sneered at that sort of behavior, I might be inclined to change my opinion of them, but they don't seem like the "giving" sort. They seem more inclined to pester Latin American playboys to buy them drinks. Oh well.

That's my new motto, "Buy Tankboy a drink or get the hell offa my tee-vee!"

Thursday, September 02, 2004


Wow, it feels like the day is so much longer since I got out of work so early. I think I'll skip the gym and go for a run though since the day is so beautiful. I noticed the drive home the past two days has been near perfect, musically. Yesterday the drive lasted the exact length of the Darling Buds' debut Crawdaddy. The last song ended as I pulled into the garage. Today traffic sucked, but I blasted The Bay City Rollers and realized that I had forgotten how much fun they are. That reminds me,I have go to start unpacking my thousands and thousands of discs so I have new and exciting stuff to play at Ten56 this Tuesday.

...and centered.

I have stumbled across a group of blogs that could kind of be viewed as the anti-New York mind-set (i.e. totally unlike Ultra, Karen, etc.) in action but eerily similar in their joie de vivre. (That's a fancy way of saying these cats seem to be having a good time no matter what they're doing. Take a peek at this blog, and this one and this one. They all link to each other and you get a sense of a little virtual community predicated on nothing more than enjoying what's before them. Since I'm usually surrounded by sharp-witted scenesters who enjoy jousting with sarcasm (and, really, who doesn't?) these are a fun and refreshing read. Start with the Monday, August 30, 2004 on this site. Hilarity ensues.

What the hell is an ENFP?

Well, apparently I am:
ENFP - "Journalist". Uncanny sense of the motivations of others. Life is an exciting drama. 8.1% of total population.
Take Free Myers-Briggs Personality Test

(credz due)
Personal politics.

For me, this whole thing is pretty easy. I keep hearing the republicans going on and on about how the economy is improving, so I thought I’d review my personal finances over the past four years. When Bush took office four years ago, my salary was almost double what I make now. The only debt I had was a student loan since I had just graduated from college (finally) and I always got refunds around tax time.

Now I make half what I did then, my dept is huge due to being unemployed for nine months in Bush’s “recovering economy” and I’ve had to pay taxes in excess of what was deducted from my paychecks over the last two years.

On top of this I live in a climate that encourages fear of pretty much everything and threatens a boogeyman around every corner.

Hmmm…who should I vote for in two months?

No contest.

At least Morning Edition is on. And now I have coffee for my One:One so all is right with the world right now.

My morning paper isn't even here yet. Apparently no one is up at this hour.

Well, except for me now...and me two years ago since this is the time I would usually be stumbling home from being out on any given night. Stumbling to my home or someone else's. I think it's preferable to be waking this early rather than going to bed this late, but I'm not positive...

Why oh why oh why am I up at 5am? Why oh why oh why can’t I sleep any longer? Even my dad never got up this early! Oh well, I do have a project I’ve got to finish today, so getting into work early certainly won’t hurt. On top of that, the earlier I’m in, the earlier I can leave. It’d be nice to be walking out the door between 3:00 and 3:30…I could go to the gym, run some errands and still be home before Photogal.

Folks, this is excitement.

That’s hot.

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

Late late late!

Yes, since I spun last night I was late out the door and, since I get paid by my company to actually work and not to write entries here, there will be no real new content for today.

However I must report that last night I helped a young lady fight that which I find most deplorable…thong exposure. Your hero stepped in and kindly told her that her thong was riding somewhere close to the ceiling while here jeans were sliding to the floor and amidst a blush and a thankful stammer she corrected the situation.

Whilst I felt that I had done the right thing, a number of my male companions were less than pleased. Oh well...

Wal-Mart wusses out?

Well, Wal-Mart has pulled out of even trying to put a location on the South side of Chicago and, if the city passes “two pending ordinances that would set minimum pay and benefit standards for employees of "big box" retailers, including Wal-Mart” Wal-Mart has said that "if an onerous big-box ordinance is passed, we may have to re-evaluate that location."