I don’t think Jack O The Clock, the improv music group, have played Palo Alto. Jumping the eye across a scrolling screen of 0’s and 1’s disguised as A, B, C, &’s & #’s, it seems they like Starry Plough in Berkeley (and I like Starry Plough in Berkley, when it was booked by Misty Gamble, and for darts) and sometimes Crepe Place in Santa Cruz (never been, but Terry and I took a photo from outside the venue a few weeks back, like a character in Round Midnight) and the occasional scrolling up to Seattle and Portland, but not hardly here in the 650 — maybe Red Rocks on Castro once.
The word I was looking for was “saccade” means jumping.
Meanwhile, a Palo Alto triple-mom (as opposed to an Octo-mom, she has three sons, and her husband is a musician — check that, her husband is the best musician in Barron Park, I would venture, eyes fixed-like dead on in a stare) wants me to led my considerable Mojo (not the music mag) and perhaps the extreme editorial influence of Plastic Alto (the blog, not the British reed-holder) towards a music series for today’s Utes (not the Ohlone). You know, for kids.
I guess we could do both: a venue, perhaps downtown for interesting music, including Jack O The Clock and their ilk — I also booked Ava Mendoza and friends into Smith-Andersen Gallery once — but also somewhere were teens, especially those forming bands, but I would make it for ages 15 to 18 or something, can play, and listen to their peers.
I also have a meeting with someone in Leadership about why or why not there is no place in Palo Alto for nationally-known touring acts to play. And not just not at 456 University, the former Varsity.
I apologize to Jack O The Clock for not reviewing their music and more directly. Oblique strategy, dearies, as Brian Eno would say. (Not that I know Eno, but I did manage Beatty and Hilsinger during a time when they met Eno and he wrote the liner notes for their tiger mountain homage….)
Jack O The Clock has my permission to use this as liner notes someday.
(which reminds me that I more than an hour ago booted up the old sputtering tube-amp-cum-abacus with the specific intention of pilfering in the Bittorrent or Lawrence Lessig sense photo or photos perhaps on the Mississippi Museum of Art website, for an exhib called “This Light of Ours” which also reminds that I have two copies of Odetta’s last show, at Golden Gate Park. Bit Torrent or bitter rent?)
Maybe I will, for no reason, medley from Jack O The Clock to “activist photographers of the Civil Rights Movement. They got a Jordan Glenn which reminds me I been meaning to ring my old friend Glen Jordan, the Vermont-based Sports Writer and former quarterback for the Richardson Rapiers. Sarah Howe I think. I don’t know these people at all; their were 2 girl and 3 boys, from the picture, near as I can tell.
There’s also a lady at Stanford who has an agent and maybe a label and plays her music thru an electronic coo-hickey, of the type ironically enough that has been banned at Lytton Plaza; I’d like to book her there anyways. (We have an amplifier ban, that probably ensnares due to it’s obvious lack of narrow tailoring, laptop bands or acts).