nudle

Special Ed and the Shortbus.

I caught half a set by Special Ed and the Shortbus, an "R-rated bluegrass band" tonight at the Charleston. Part bluegrass, part jug band, part klezmer, part performance art, they played together like married people on a good day. The words that came to my mind were fresh and unafraid. And really, incredibly musically talented. Tight. If you have the chance to see them you should. I glanced at their upcoming tour dates and it looks like they're playing all the hot spots in Indiana next.

Their official site is here.

Miles.

I forgot about Miles, about how he can stretch my desire out on a single note without knowing anything about me. How is it that I forgot? Where did I lose Miles? Tonight I listened to Sketches of Spain while I made vegetable lasagne for my in-laws who are flying in from Scotland this very minute. I listened to Doo-Bop turned down low as I helped Iona with her homework on the letter V. "Vvvvvv," she said, pantomiming driving a van with her small hands on the invisible steering wheel. I listened to Kind of Blue while I scrubbed toilets. (I wonder if our cleaning lady ever really cleaned, because this place is sort of a shithole.) I listened to the soundtrack from Siesta while I poured myself a glass of wine, a shiraz cabernet that is not red but purple and seems almost carbonated. Any other night I would have pushed it away saying, "It's gone over," but tonight, with Miles, carbonation and purple seem perfectly right.