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Nun worships house deity.
Nov. 30th, 2014 11:44 amBut first: I'm a NSPP member now. I can't escape the gravity of Planet Poly, which seems to be virtually synonymous with Greater Seattle. And besides, Planet Poly has some life forms on it that are... fascinating, to say the least.
On to the Monkey Loft, that charmingly intimate Sodo venue where Mark Farina did his thing. I was strangely unable to get an advance ticket, so I ended up standing in line for half an hour in below-freezing weather along with most of the capacity crowd.
Openers: Ramiro, whom I could hear spinning old Farina from the street; Jason Tokita, whose name sounds familiar to me and who doesn't suck; a now-rare appearance from Papa Tomato - I'd never heard of him, but now I've heard him - who's a Chicago man from waaay back and definitely sounds like it; and of course Farina himself.
Farina has been based in San Francisco for around fifteen years now, but the organic, disco- and funk-flavored signature sound of Chicago, where Farina is from, was very much in evidence. It was so much so that at times I might have mistaken his set for that of another Chicago artist. I will say this for Farina, though: he knows how to use the space between notes like no one else.
Shallow Fashion Details: White turtle neck under my black "house nutrition facts" t-shirt (It was cold, dammit), Pride jewelry, short white über-girly skirt with the black rose prints, velvet cheetah print leggings, black cop boots. Yeah, there were lots of other women dressed sexier than I was, but I bet I was more comfortable than they were on the street.
Bottom line: I had fun and danced my booty off, but not the kind of fun that makes me think, 'Oh Em Gee, I must buy this artist's latest rekkid!' To tell you the truth, I think I got more musical mileage out of his down tempo Mushroom Jazz vol. 7, in a certain basement with a certain lady. Ahem.
One more thing: Happiness is a cute, magenta-haired barmaid who mixes a tasty gimlet.
And another thing: I remember when the Monkey Loft was apparently somebody's residence most of the time, and booze was strictly BYOB. Now it's a nice-looking club space with a rooftop annex. I'm dying to find out how that happened. I know that Year of the Monkey Asian antiques downstairs, whose sign is still up and gave the Monkey Loft its name, fell victim to the recession in about '09.
On to the Monkey Loft, that charmingly intimate Sodo venue where Mark Farina did his thing. I was strangely unable to get an advance ticket, so I ended up standing in line for half an hour in below-freezing weather along with most of the capacity crowd.
Openers: Ramiro, whom I could hear spinning old Farina from the street; Jason Tokita, whose name sounds familiar to me and who doesn't suck; a now-rare appearance from Papa Tomato - I'd never heard of him, but now I've heard him - who's a Chicago man from waaay back and definitely sounds like it; and of course Farina himself.
Farina has been based in San Francisco for around fifteen years now, but the organic, disco- and funk-flavored signature sound of Chicago, where Farina is from, was very much in evidence. It was so much so that at times I might have mistaken his set for that of another Chicago artist. I will say this for Farina, though: he knows how to use the space between notes like no one else.
Shallow Fashion Details: White turtle neck under my black "house nutrition facts" t-shirt (It was cold, dammit), Pride jewelry, short white über-girly skirt with the black rose prints, velvet cheetah print leggings, black cop boots. Yeah, there were lots of other women dressed sexier than I was, but I bet I was more comfortable than they were on the street.
Bottom line: I had fun and danced my booty off, but not the kind of fun that makes me think, 'Oh Em Gee, I must buy this artist's latest rekkid!' To tell you the truth, I think I got more musical mileage out of his down tempo Mushroom Jazz vol. 7, in a certain basement with a certain lady. Ahem.
One more thing: Happiness is a cute, magenta-haired barmaid who mixes a tasty gimlet.
And another thing: I remember when the Monkey Loft was apparently somebody's residence most of the time, and booze was strictly BYOB. Now it's a nice-looking club space with a rooftop annex. I'm dying to find out how that happened. I know that Year of the Monkey Asian antiques downstairs, whose sign is still up and gave the Monkey Loft its name, fell victim to the recession in about '09.
