Despite what a few of you might think, I believe the organizing principle of the world is supposed to be love, but somewhere along the way we all fucked it up. Read St. Augustine for more on that, or Milton, Plato, or Dante or Mary Oliver. The mid-20th century psychoanalyst and genius Wilhelm Reich was probably killed by our government, the FDA of all branches, for his belief in harnessing the power of “orgone,” or love accumulated into physical form. You might think I’m being crazy but something screwy happened there, if you care to read about his story. At least check out Kate Bush’s song “Cloudbusting” for more on that.
I mention this because this week, an ICE officer, lauded at Trump’s State of the Union, arrested Mahmoud Khalil, a Palestinian activist and legal resident of our country, from his home in Columbia University housing, as his eight-months pregnant wife watched in horror. As of the time I’m writing this, his condition remains unknown. They are disappearing people for speaking, non-violently, out of conscience against a genocide. This order apparently came from the White House. The horror that the previous administration started has come home, it seems. And I have no interest in arguing with the people who find his arrest and detention a good thing, I don’t care to waste my time. I simply want to state for the record that if our government is going to detain people of conscience for speaking up and protesting the worst holocaust of collective punishment on a civilian population in the 21st century, then I will gladly add myself to that list. Born an American, with a San Francisco birth certificate, I’m happy to put my name in the hat with other people who will not be silent about this, come what may. This week’s title comes from a Spanish Civil War slogan the Manic Street Preachers turned into a song. A song where they also quoted another slogan aimed at the farmers involved in the resistance, one familiar to George Orwell as he fought against the darkness of fascism: “If you can shoot rabbits, you can shoot fascists.”
This isn’t an endorsement of violence but rather an observation. As I said in the beginning, our organizing principle as humans was always supposed to be LOVE.
Those of you with conscience, please do what you can to be a part of that love. We might have the opportunity to turn this horrifying evil around. Maybe not, but do you want to be the one to tell your surviving children that you didn’t even try? Have a lovely week.
Thursday
The Basement is once again saving us from the ennui of missing a long, long weekend of music — in my former home of New Orleans, the weekend could stretch a few days on either end because people know how to live down there — by providing a place for some live entertainment. Tonight’s sounds come courtesy of Palante Jazz, advertised on the flier as danceable Latin jazz. I’ll gladly take that, and you should, too, as there is no cover and 8 p.m. is a reasonable start time for a late-week gig.
Friday
The Outer Space is putting on an all-ages show with some fine local groups, so I won’t waste any time with preamble. The Uncredible Phin Band — the “h” is silent — is one of my favorite world music acts and have electrified the titular Thai lute for a fantastic sound. As Known As plays psyche music and Floating does stoner metal right. It all begins at 8 p.m., with a suggested $10 at the door, well worth it in my opinion. Oh, it’s also Pi Day, 3/14, so there will be free slices of pie for those who celebrate.
Saturday
After a long layoff and a movie still in the works, I’m happy to announce that the California Poppies are back at it again. And with spring on the horizon, I can’t imagine a better time for these lads to bloom again. You can hear all about it at the Logger Bar at 9 p.m., where a free door means more money you can spend at the bar or tipping out the musicians. What a treat.
Sunday
Scott Cook and Pamela Mae play folk music, as an acoustic duo with the fella on guitar and vox, and the lady on upright bass and harmonies. Simple, unpretentious stuff, as you will discover for yourself at Synapsis at 7 p.m. The suggested donations for this road running duo run from $15-$25 but you won’t get turned away if you have a little less, or nothing, to offer.
Monday, St. Patrick’s Day
Regular readers know how little regard I have for this plastic Paddy holiday, having run the gauntlet bartending and been mistaken as Irish on this silly, American drinking pageant. No shade on the Irish, by the way, and up the ‘RA and get your Brits out, as Kneecap, a favorite Irish rap group of mine, likes to remind people. I’m certainly a Republican in spirit only in the sense of the French Revolution and a unified-Ireland-sans-limeys meaning of the term. But American St. Paddy’s Day is as whack as Whacking Day on that classic episode of The Simpsons (look it up). You will find elsewhere plenty of places to get day drunk and red-faced if that’s your aim, and I’m the last fella to pretend I don’t sometimes enjoy those experiences. However, if you want a good show of beautiful fusion music from Cape Breton to the Isle of Skye and beyond, the Hanneke Cassel Band is back in town, with the lead lady on fiddle and backed up by cellist Tristan Clarridge and French-Canadian guitarist Yann Falquet. Always a wonderful time live, Ms. Cassel can be found fiddlin’ away at the Old Steeple tonight at 7:30 p.m. ($25).
Tuesday
I got nothing tonight. Maybe listen to something from the vibes of the amazing Roy Ayers, the soul and jazz vibraphonist who passed last week after a lifetime of making the world better through his music.
Wednesday
Two oddball and frankly fantastic underground cult bands from yesteryear are converging at the Miniplex tonight, and I don’t suggest missing this shebang. Oneida is from New York City, and Kinski are from Seattle, but both hit the bricks hard around the same time, having been birthed from the late ’90s ecstatic noise and pop scene that created some of the best moments of sound over the last couple of decades. Seriously consider hitting the pipe on this one and taking a drag off the magical, mystical world of music that existed back when artists could afford rent and still have the energy to create glory. At 8 p.m. ($18, $15 advance).
Collin Yeo (he/him) still believes in love as the only force to fill the vacuum of meaning.
This article appears in 10 Foliies Anniversary.
Collin, I agree with your opening sentiments. The dichotomy between our ability and need to create, in arts, in science, in family and friend groups, and our warlike streak continues to confuse me. Happily, most of us have no interest in war, or even harming anyone else, other than the odd annoying neighbor, but there are enough warmongers in positions of power to keep the world constantly stressed. There is an old folk song, written by Sheldon Harnick of musical theatre fame, and performed by the Kingston Trio in 1959, called the Merry Minuet. If you don’t know it, give it a listen and marvel at how little has changed since then! As a musician and songwriter, I’m going to keep creating, in the face of all of this other human tragedy, and hope that e can all create a better tomorrow. Thanks for using your creativity to encourage others to perform and listen.