Monday, March 26, 2012


It has a double meaning. "Day of Morning," because we literally didn't get back to the hotel room until the next morning, and the second "Day of Mourning," means I was sad cause it was over. Aw, sad face. 
This is just one of the many--and I mean many--markings from DJ Shepard Fairy. The analogy for how many markings there were on the Asbury Park boardwalk is "...he was like a very scared chihuahua, a very scared chihuahua with a very full bladder, just pissing everywhere."

Day 3 Rules -- RULE # 1 as follows...NO PINBALL. As you may have heard it is like the crack cocaine.
RULE # 2 Try to stay awake despite the lack of sleep and constant flashes of Michael McDonald karaoke bombs.
RULE # 3 Unlike the night before...make it to the Berkeley Disco on time.

We ate pizza and then went to sleep it off at the Earth show. As surreal as it was, I had never been to a show in which it was considered acceptable, even respectful, to close your eyes and just drift...

Earth photo via

I felt a bit embarrassed about my inability to keep my head up during the first couple of songs, but it was then that I nervously laughed, looked behind me and realized...everyone was closing their eyes. I can't say for sure if everyone was sleeping, all I know is the experience was one of collaborative meditation. After leaving the show--happy and with a slightly more awake demeanor--I had to wonder..."was this planned?" Is ATP truly this cognizant of their target audience? Probably. That is a great attribute though. It's like Cheers, where everybody knows when you're hung-over, half asleep, and completely comfortable. If you are taking a midday nap and really just want to meditate into a heavenly coma like we did then click HERE.

What do you want to do when you're slightly tired but also not tired enough to sleep? You drink a Bloody Mary and watch Belle De Jour in the Berkeley theatre. Bondage is comforting, most especially when you're sipping on vodka and watching Catharine Deneuve play out your sexual fantasies, I mean...her character's sexual fantasies...


After imbibing, we headed over to...

Never in my life have I seen so many white folk "fighting the power"--aside from Occupy Wall Street. I have also never in my life shouted "Flavor Flav!" with such voracity, and most importantly, honesty. Listen HERE to be a cop killer.

Chuck D photo via

On to the last one...

Portishead Night Two was a lot like Portishead Night One. I was completely elated hearing personally influential songs like "Wandering Star" and "Glorybox" finally live. I had such moments with those songs in middle school and to see them more than a decade later truly resonates with the child-like innocence most everyone tries so hard to keep alive and enthusiastic. I'd say the only let down was their identical set list. I would've loved to hear songs that I've only heard played viscerally on live albums. Another plus for me, Chuck D came on stage during "Machine Gun" and free-styled. Which at the time I thought was "so awesome and sporadic," but then I heard "...they did the same thing in Barcelona," which totally killed it for everybody. Most everybody but me. Because I wasn't in Barcelona when they did it the first time--but I was at ATP, so I'm happy, and isn't that what truly matters? The concert portion of this night is now over. We had a couple of activities to choose from--a movie, dance in a bowling alley with members of aforementioned bands, or go back to the hotel and sleep it off. We chose dancing in a bowling alley, obviously.

This is our reaction to DJ Shepard Fairy's music selection. No bueno.

Everyone else didn't seem to mind the tunage. So we drank heavily, and not surprisingly, that aided in the music flowing through us almost as smoothly as the drinks did. 

3:00 AM
The Berkeley Disco is an underground thing. It's on the down-low, the hush hush, the speak and easy. I honestly don't remember much from this point on. I started doing the Laura Palmer all over the place.

All I can say about the Berkeley Disco is it's two parts Marie Antoinette, one part David Lynch, and, that you've got to experience it for yourself. After that, all I remember is a white ape with an astronaut's helmet dancing on the side of somebody's home, and walking back to the hotel room on the boardwalk watching the sunrise over the Atlantic. No biggie. ATP is everything I ever expected and more out of a music festival and I hope I've done it justice here and here and here. If I didn't do it justice with my sometimes shoddy, slightly inebriated visuals and expounded descriptors, it looks like I'll be getting another chance. ATP Asbury Park 2012 is right around the summer corner and the tickets for the fest and jet plane have been picked and booked. So, there she blows. Till next time ATP...and hey, maybe this time around, I'll see you there.

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