The Blog of Jason “Jayce” Olshefsky

One of Ali’s friends was having a combination birthday and engagement celebration. We met them at The Beale Street Cafe (689 South Ave.) as Ali’s friend’s neighbor’s uncle [or something] was in the band, Third Degree. We had a few drinks there and a good time. The band did a fine job with the classics and standards … sometimes encroaching on exceptional, in fact.

Afterward, we all went out to ruin music in our own way: karaoke. The first suggestion on the table was The Boulevard Restaurant (412 Empire Blvd.) I looked to see if the much-closer Elixir (938 South Clinton Ave.) still had karaoke on Saturday nights but to no avail in the local papers present at the bar. So it was off Empire. I managed to sing The Turtles’ “Happy Together” without much trouble but I also gave Jimmy Buffet’s “Come Monday” a go as well. Alas, despite having self-administered the right amount of public singing fluid, the song still didn’t sound good to me. I decided that it was in fact a difficult song to sing. Others fared better, including Ali, and particularly this guy who was in our group who broke karaoke: halfway through his song, the computer conked-out and had to be rebooted.

We were very happy to have a generous fiancée who played a staunch designated driver role. He brought us back to the city and we had planned to go to Mark’s Texas Hots (487 Monroe Ave.) but Ali observed he wasn’t excited about it so made some excuse about the person lying in the sidewalk with the paramedics around them being a reason to not go. Ali and I, however, walked from her house there.

We got in around 3 and double-dated with a couple guys we met in line to share a table as there was — of course — a line, and it was — of course — cold. I corrected my prior attempt at the perfect plate and came pretty close: macaroni salad and fries topped with meat sauce and over-easy eggs — this time skipping the onions. Much better than my last attempts.

I headed out to The Bug Jar (219 Monroe Ave.) to see Chae Hawk, and The Secret Secret Dino Club. Okay, actually I went specifically because Secret Secret Dino Club is headed by a guy named Jayce, born just before I left high school and not far from where I grew up (according to the MySpace page). [That, and I'm writing this far later than I had intended so some people might miss it entirely.]

Anyway, the show was kicked off with a DJ along with a video projection. The Secret Secret Dino Club was up first and did some fun and clever hip-hop. Chae Hawk brought some stuff that was a little … oh, I don’t know … less whimsical? — but similar nonetheless. The crowd was much younger than I was (except for some parental-looking folks) and this style of music is kind of new to me. It’s an exercise in overstimulation — between the prerecorded music for the performers, the live performance, the video projection, and a DJ adding in a couple turntables, it can get to be a bit overwhelming. But somehow it all stays coherent, and with a thoroughly rough edge — kind of like an extension of the gritty garage sound of the 1960’s and the punk sound of the 1970’s, this is the gritty sound of the generation with access to cheap digital replication and editing.

As for Jayce, I stopped after the show and said hi. He said he’s usually met by black women who share his name, and I’m the first guy. My own nickname was cemented by the presence of the cartoon show Jayce and the Wheeled Warriors during high school (and for you geeky trivia nuts [you know who you are], none other than J. Michael Straczynski wrote 13 episodes, according to IMDb). I told Jayce this and he said he was also named after a cartoon — presumably the same one. How weird is that? And who’d have thought that 20 years after naming a kid that that he’d end up 3 hours away from home and run into someone who got the same name from the same place.  But he’s going to have to keep looking because I’m not his father.

I headed out to the Gallery at Potential Life Studios (34 Elton St.) to check out The No-Tone Party. I got there a little early and got to chat with the folks from the studio — Jeremy and Colleen, I think. They run a nice space for music, art, and performance.

Anyway, the show was primarily organized by Ian Downey and Nuuj. The idea was for musicians to record pop songs that had no appreciable notes. For the most part, the songs pit the two concepts against one another, as if “pop song” and “melody” were opposites. As such, most of the songs were either not very catchy or they included some melodic element. I decided that the closest approximation to the no-tone pop song would be the rhythm of a train: a recognizable and appealing “music”. Before I became overwhelmed with tiredness (as I’ve been going to bed rather early lately) I did hear one song that captured that kind of element.

We’ll have to see where this all goes … if it’s not a genre unto itself, some version of it will probably start appearing in alternative-rock within a couple years.

OK, this one’s specifically dedicated to John Lam. Whenever we talk about JayceLand, he frequently comments that I don’t blog “properly” — often posting an entry for — say today — on next Wednesday. So this one’s for you, John: it’s 2:59 a.m. and after the event about which I’m about to blog. …

So I went to Monty’s Krown (875 Monroe Ave.) earlier. I arrived in time to catch just a song-and-a-half of Jesse Sprinkle. I liked what I heard, but don’t feel confident opining further due to insufficient experience. Next was Burning Daylight who are really swell. Jesse plays drums in this band — and I met lead-singer/guitarist Nick and bassist Tim afterward. I generally stand by my database-stored comment from December 21, 2006 at the Bug Jar: “unremarkable bar-rock except when they get more punk-rock”. [No offense, guys: let me qualify ...]

I had a great time. I considered heading to The Bug Jar (219 Monroe Ave.) for the metal and metal-like show featuring (among others) Sulaco (featuring some friends of mine) but instead, I opted to get a pint or two (or three) at Monty’s Krown (875 Monroe Ave.) instead and enjoy some, well, bar-rock. Burning Daylight does a fine job with a mix of [mostly] originals and [some] covers in a bar-rock/punk-rock style. I mean, what more can I say? Have you been at a bar where some band was playing and had a drink or two, and noted, “hey, these guys are pretty good.”? It’s that kind of personal experience that really doesn’t carry over well to radio-play or other popular, substantive fame. It’s just … well … nice. With notably-sexceptional exceptions like “Black Soul, Black Heart”, it’s not the kind of thing you’re going to get nagging in your head. But that one song can keep you coming back.

Heck, maybe it’s whatever it was that Ali and her friend were so impressed that the band played for them. Or maybe it’s just that Tim’s this kind of faux-Canadian [in the "gosh, aren't those Canadian folks polite and kind" kind of way] Buffalo … umm … resident. Or that I owe Nick, Tim, and Jesse a drink [and $1.33 more each] for giving me their CD (Jesse 2x for supplying his personal-favorite own CD in addition).

In conclusion, thanks: you guys gave me a great time (even despite that poor dude who got carried away by ambulance for whatever reason … at least it wasn’t body-bag). So when you’re at your regularly-paying day-jobs, know that I thought your time was worth its while. Sure, your songs aren’t on ‘BER regularly [or are they?: I'm so irritated by the Guisto-inspired BOCES-training-esque 'play what the people want' kind of crap that I barely listen anymore].

But whatever: play live and there’s someone there who’ll love it.

I headed out to The Bug Jar (219 Monroe Ave.) a second time [and a late update to the JayceLand page, in case you wondered if you missed it the first time]. First up was Bird Show which consisted of one guy playing synth-sourced, digitally-altered, experimental, anti-melodic, anti-tempo music. It was a lot like interesting ambient — only not mellow. Next was Sun Circle who did a trippy meditative set — in one song, for instance, they harmonized reed instruments with a rolling synth tone and burned incense; it was actually a lot better than you might expect.

Finishing up was Autumn In Halifax — joined by “leaves” Joe Tunis and R. Scott Oliver. Although I loved Dave’s solo work when he first started playing as Halifax, I’ve come to really enjoy the new line-up, especially now that it’s more mature. The lush poetry of Dave’s lyrics works just as well now as it did before, only now it’s set against a more traditional three-piece band.

I guess it’s been a while since I wrote any reports of performances, much less one where I see a band. I still get out — although less often than I used to — and tonight was one of those cases. I went to The Bug Jar (219 Monroe Ave.) and got there a bit early so I had a chance to catch up with the folks in The Lobster Quadrille. As it turns out, they were up first — there was some confusion about who was when, as it was Auld Lang Syne’s show (so they got top billing) and Township came in from Boston.

Anyhow, The Lobster Quadrille did a great set. I found myself particularly mesmerized by Love is Cold. I’ve mentioned it hundreds of times [okay, for each of the last 29 of their shows I posted], but they do a great rendition of satirical gospel with all of 6 [or is it 7?] people on stage performing. Lead singer Solomon commented afterward that he felt the set was a bit melancholic feeling; although I think that “melancholic” suits them quite well.

Next up was Township who I really enjoyed as well. They do a crisp, fresh version of classic rock. I even bought their CD which I’ve been enjoying as well. Finishing up was Auld Lang Syne who I’ve now finally had the chance to hear. The night was getting a bit long for me, but I stayed enough to find they played a great heavy-hitting proto-rock that I’ll likely seek out in future shows.

I headed out to the late show at The Bug Jar (219 Monroe Ave.) First up was The Copyrights who played some superb high-energy punk-rock with a rich thumping bass. Next up was Kepi Ghoulie (a.k.a. Kepi: The Band) former front-man of The Groovie Ghoulies. Well, his new band is naturally very similar in that it’s still a ghoul-themed punk-rock band, but it’s got a more gritty, distorted sound that suits them well. Plus more people.

Unfortunately they hadn’t learned the Ghoulies’ Chupacabra yet so I’m stuck with it in my head — perhaps until the next time someone mentions the Chupacabra (or is it three times into the mirror?). Regardless: I had an absolute blast.

I got to The Bug Jar (219 Monroe Ave.) a bit early just in case but things got started later than usual. I chatted a bit with Dave Merulla of Autumn In Halifax who was interested in what I’d think of the show tonight. Despite my description last week, Dave would be playing things vanilla acoustic style: no “Leaves” (additional members who join him now and then) and no “band in a box” (a reference he made a few years ago to the digital effects he uses).

In the end, the show was excellent. It’s still Dave and still his songs. He was clearly itching to use some effects or have people accompany his playing at times, but he persevered. Afterward he said that he likes to do a few shows all alone like that to shake out the songs. It’s like he’s building a foundation: that the melody and lyrics have to be strong on their own before he fiddles around with adding decoration and style. And they are generally strong songs to start with. He’ll be playing them with “The Leaves” in July at The Little Theatre Café (240 East Ave.).

I’ve come to really appreciate what he’s trying to accomplish. He said that he enjoys playing with additional people for the variation it causes — that there’s always something unknown by doing that. He commented that it’s usually a matter of trying to figure out which of the wheels is going to fall off first. And as such, the band is constantly changing … I said that my notes on bands are thrown way off with this kind of thing: by this time next year, Autumn in Halifax will have a completely different sound, although rooted in the same quality of music.

I got to thinking about how I like to see people do what they’ve done before, but it kind of makes them machines. I already have machines for that: they play back audio recordings. So no matter how many times any band plays something different, there’s always the possibility of revisiting what was through the last CD.

Anyway, the other band up was The Weird Weeds. They do a sort of accessible experimental music — a bit of alternative-rock and with a bit of experimentation and a bit of harmonization. One of their members was nursing some kind of cold with whiskey, but they still did a great job.

I headed to The Bug Jar (219 Monroe Ave.) and tried not to miss any of the show. Unfortunately I arrived long after The Emotron had finished — Mose Giganticus was just taking the stage. They were great — a really fun snyth-rock band. Following up, The Mathematicians put on an excellent show. Their synth-driven sound covers things like rock, punk, and hip-hop seamlessly. Unfortunately they had some power problems and I got in on the fray [hopefully] being helpful and getting them to play one more song before an effects-pedal problem did them in — and I was so close to fixing that one too.

I went to Boulder Coffee Co. (100 Alexander St.) to check out SoundRabbit. The place was dead with just a few musicians, myself, and the slowly building crowd for the Open Mic Comedy. It’s too bad there weren’t more people because SoundRabbit is a nicely rhythmic, expertly proficient acoustic-driven band. Several times they reminded me of Paul Simon’s acoustic solo stuff, but maybe with a country twang. They teeter right on the edge of “jam band” but without the annoying vapid repetition of the latter — they reminded me more of The BuddhaHood than any of a billion Grateful Dead wannabes.

During the show Russ (the lead singer) was having problems with the sustain pedal on his keyboard — it seemed to be stuck. It got so bad he just unplugged it in the middle of the song and tried to hold notes manually — given the staccato style of most of the song it appeared to work. Between songs I dashed up to see if I could fix it. I didn’t even make it back to my table when I noticed it had a switch on the side so it would operate as either momentary or push-on/push-off and it was in the undesirable position. They were all very appreciative that I had “saved the tour” (although I think they’d have figured it out somewhere in the van on the road before their next gig) and gave me a free CD.

Afterward I talked with them a little bit before they had to get going — the odd Sunday Rochester stop was a convenient one between Chicago and Boston. Since I’ve been to Denver quite a few times I’m familiar with Boulder a little as well so we talked geography a bit. Several of the band members are from Massachusetts originally so they were doing a stop at Mom and Dad’s for the night.

Anyway, we also talked a little about the RBT Backstage program. Basically they invite fans to join the backstage program for $20/year and in exchange, they get access to all the music recorded that year (and presumably before) to download along with other perks — if you’re “in” the backstage, then you get access to everything, and if you aren’t, then you can go to shows and buy CD’s like anyone else. What they then do is to donate their merchandise sales to charity rather than trying to scrape out a tour on the often not-so-deep pockets of people at the shows. I imagine it makes for a more relaxing tour — they said the travel money was mostly already budgeted with a few major college shows to cover the rest — so it’s never an issue of selling enough stickers and T-shirts to fill the van with gas.

I’ll probably send them a message tipping them off to the idea of Creative Commons licensing so they can make a (theoretically) legally binding agreement that their works are copyright by them and they license their works freely under certain circumstances — like to share in a non-commercial setting or to remix the works given the same license is provided.