breakestra ever dumbening ... or ... Everything's_Coming_Up_Milhouse What a day. But let's start back a few years, just for context. The Telecommunications Act of 1996 was a godawful shitstorm of deregulation that allowed corporations like Infinity and Clear Channel to destroy radio and with it much of the music industry. That same year, I skipped town, both from the wonderfully musical New Orleans (my home for the previous three years) and from the country altogether. Living overseas can alienate; living in China is downright dissociative. I came back a year and a half later in pieces. Even worse, upon my return to the States, I discovered the music industry had been vaccuumed clean of any semblance of respect and talent. So now I didn't even have music to help heal my soul. When things musical and literary are struggling, the options are to dig back, to go underground, or to grow your own. Though I've had dreams of the latter—and may one day yet explore that—I chose first to try the past. I mostly learned more about jazz and also traced a few threads out of a primary love of mine, progressive rock. But I still wanted to be thrilled by something new, by something I could hear on the radio, by someone I could go see live. So I sampled the other option, the underground. In pushing my body back to health, I went to play Ultimate every Saturday for a couple years. Another player, for whom I had a great deal of respect—athletically, intellectually, musically—recommended that I listen to KALX, the UC Berkeley radio station. My musical rebirth began here. Electronic funky soul hip hop rock blues bluesy bluegrass folk neo this and that and little bit of everything else. I know every college radio junky thinks theirs is the best, so I won't belabor the following point; I'll just say that the dj's for KALX have been doing it for a long time, and doing it right. There have been several times in the last few years where I've been turned on to new music as a direct result of hearing a cut on KALX. From Juana Molina all the way to Electric Six, I've had some fun and seen some great shows. But I haven't been so grabbed by a band in the last few years as I have by Breakestra. About six weeks ago, I was listening to one of my favorite dj's, DJ Kitty. (You'll pardon me, please, as I go into a lengthy tangent about Kitty. I have a huge crush on her. She has an incredibly sexy voice. I met her briefly once when she came into where I work, so I know she's cute. And to top it all off, we have very similar taste in music. Though she's never directly said it, I know she lives by my edict of, "If it's funky, it's probably good; and if it's good, it's probably got some funk in it." She spins hip-hop, Brazilian (she even speaks Portuguese, which I'm currently studying), funk, soul, blues, and so on. But one of her favorite bands is The Who. Come on folks, this was my first favorite band. And even her guilty pleasures are great—Journey! Is this a marriage made in heaven or what? She even told a story one day of her spinning some Stevie Wonder at a wedding and how she almost had to drop down behind her dj setup to choke it back.) And but so then she's playing this great track, and at the mic break she says, "That one just gets me going." It was a track by Breakestra called Family Rap, off _Hit the Floor_. Once I heard a track or two more during the next few days, I knew I had to get this album. I love every song, something I haven't said in a long, long time. Of course, I started to scour the web about tour dates. At first, there was only one date. In L.A. no less. I had already traveled back to my old nemesis once this year to see a show. Then finally a couple weeks ago, a bunch of shows were announced. I know what I'm doing on Friday, December 16th. Yesterday, just three days before the show, I'm listening to another favorite dj of mine, Matthew Africa. I recently purchased a small jam box from Huckabees—um, Target, that is—so I can listen to quality tunes at work. I was on the phone when I heard a Breakestra song playing. I was working on the computer and talking, so I didn't hear Matt say that he was giving away tickets. Damn. I called him a few minutes later to ask an unrelated question, but also to try and ply him for an extra pair. Nothing doing. But he told me that Kitty would be giving away a pair the next day. Today was a long day; it's the holidays, retail, booze, and I'm the receiver. If it's in the store, it's gone past my eyes. About a half hour into Kitty's show I thought, Shit, I need to turn on the radio. No talk of tickets while I'm listening. I get ready to leave, turn off the radio, chit chat with a few coworkers and head to my car. When I step into my car, what's playing but Breakestra. Double damn. I figure she did the same thing the other dj did: gave away some tickets and then spun a song from the upcoming show. I start into the thick, ubiquitous traffic of the Eastshore Freeway. Song ends, Kitty sings more high praise for the boys, then says, "Yeah, I'm going to give away tickets for these guys in a second." Triple damn. Now I'm stuck on the Gilman Street offramp, with no cell phone. But there's a sliver of hope. She's stalling (did she know? did the universe know?). She does the back-announce for the rest of the set. I'm getting closer to the end of the offramp, knowing there's a pay phone about a quarter mile up Gilman right in front of the former Flint Ink (I only know this because I had used that very phone just months earlier to call inside Flint to let Duke know I was there to pick up the 500 pound steel work tables). She says, "I'm actually going to ask a question for these tickets, which I usually don't do." More stalling, this is working. I'm going about fifty up a crowded Gilman and pull up in front of the phone just as she starts to ask the question. I'm listening, digging in the unused ashtray for change. Two quarters in hand, question ends, I know the answer. I hop out, dial. Ring, yes! Ring ring ring ring, damn, someone's on the line. Answer, "Hello, KALX, do you know the answer?" Answer, "Yes, Chali 2na from Jurassic 5!" I'm excited, she's excited. I'm going to the show. She's going to the show. Maybe I'll get the nerve to walk up and buy her a drink. What the hell, everything's coming up Milhouse. 051214 ... Piso Mojado sweet! 051215 what's it to you? who go blather from