Mark Johnson makes things happen before you can even give him credit for them. Already he’s done 11 Raw Meet festivals, at Smokey Bears Place, and I haven’t had a chance to write about this guy and reward him for giving me the idea of being my own boss and starting the blog to begin with. It’s six hours of sets that last from ten to fifteen minutes and including a warp speed spectrum of artists and bands, thrown together like particles in a collider. Now it’s become a hot nightspot, and Johnson is taking it down to Providence, for Raw Meet 12, before hitting Philly with it after that. Here are some notes.
Mark’s set dark and funky blasts hair tosses bass blooming like cactus roses static like nuclear time on shortwave radio the weird gets weirder wraps a wire around my neck bumps into my back to the gear it’s a panel of red and yellow lights and black knobs with a coda weird and wiry like an old metal fan whirring in my two-year-old bedroom in 1966 with the bullets ricocheting through my window with a hiphop heavy metal stomp getting spacy like UFOs or a drummer at Symphony tympani rabid racket going wild like a rabbit in the briars
The misanthrope has no one everybody needs someone and it breaks my heart like it always does not just anyone dangerous and dark might set that spark shine that light it’s all right tough and rough edges and romantic happier when in love with someone who never likes to have any kind of plan always when in love in a catch 22 always when in love with the needle and the setting sun when it breaks her heart
Turtle Cat Symphony
And I feel the heather of Scotland on the electric strings of guitar
It’s a sound puzzle trying to figure who’s playing what instrument then it’s Steve, like a morning glory on contra alto clarinet
Steve Norton from Duck That