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KJagent J @ Encore Tonight

agentj — Tue, 14 Mar 2006 21:20:43 GMT

Tonight, I'm KJing at Encore Karaoke Lounge from about 8 o'clock to whenever they close. Come for a drink, a song or both. Watch me work a room full of tourists and/or office folk, hipsters, other. It's next door to the Lumiere (to the right, up the stairs) on California at Polk St. and it's a really fun place. http://www.encorekaraokesf.com/ I hope to do this again, but there are no guarantees that it will be a regular thing. We have only tonight, and tonight is all there is. It may be your last chance to see me go all Bill Murray singing about the "Star Wars, nothing but Star Wars!". Well, it could! http://www.encorekaraokesf.com/

Spins For Agent- Argus (12/12)

agentj — Mon, 12 Dec 2005 21:11:16 GMT

I'm spinning tonight at the Argus for what looks to be Lars's last Monday there bartending. Together we turn the place into a really hip parlor or salon, only with louder music and ruder drinks. Lars is the greatest. If you only come see me spin once, it oughta be tonight. He even brings an extra crate of records that I play out of all night. I doubt his replacement will do that. Arty Punk And New Wave, from the, um, old school. It's from 9 PM to close and if you come early, there should still be free eats from happy hour. The Argus is located on Mission St where it meets Valencia, across from El Rio and up a bit. http://www.arguslounge.com/

Agent (dee)J(ays) @ Argus Lounge 11/14

agentj — Mon, 14 Nov 2005 01:54:31 GMT

I'll be spinning the 80s New Wave/Goth/Glam/Post-Punk/60s Garage and other ephemeral sides at The Argus Lounge from 9 PM on. This will be a great chance to linger over cocktails to a mixxxadelic seduction of sounds that could only come from Agent J's tipsy-turvy world. Every other Monday, I bring it to the people, but you're on your own mostly, so make the most of this. The timeless Lars will be your Most Excellent Bartendeer... 3187 Mission Street (@ Valencia) San Fran McVoutie, CA http://www.arguslounge.com/

Minutes From The Last Karaoke

agentj — Wed, 05 Oct 2005 09:53:06 GMT

Del Shannon - Runaway Duran Duran - A View To A Kill Gene Pitney - Town Without Pity You missed some Cinephonic ditties when you didn't go to Annie's with me last night Tribe.

The Origin Of Wheat, Celebrated In Song

agentj — Fri, 23 Sep 2005 21:48:43 GMT

Years ago I was concieved 'neath the sign of the Sleep-Walking Bear (in, not outside of) a Travel Lodge. To mark the day (this one) on which I hit the ground running, and that I am running still, it's all of us down to Annie's Cocktail Lounge. Tonight. To chase all gloom and knock a few back. It's time to get off your Rusty Dusties and give me the Karaokes. Tonight. I insist... That's "tonight" from 9pm-2am. Get there early if you feel like singing, 'cause after a few belts I plan on being ALL up on the Mic. http://www.urbanlogic.com/annies/annies.htm

The Upside Of Doody

agentj — Wed, 31 Aug 2005 21:45:54 GMT

Silver lining to getting crapped on outside of Ritual? Today when I took my brown sharksin jacket to the dry cleaners I got to hear an old Chinese man say, "Bird shit!". That is all...

Just A Few Spins @ Argus Tonite!

agentj — Mon, 29 Aug 2005 20:23:28 GMT

I may be spinning a short set or two btw 10 & 12 tonite at the Argus. I'll be a special guest. Whereas next Mon (September 5) I'll rule the roost from 9 until Yez Dont Have Tae Goo Hoom, But Yez Can't Stay Heeere... Just so yez know. I'll be there for a bit, but it won't be the full Wheat On Ice New Wave Record Perloo I plumped for last week. That's next week.

The Birth Of My Ire! Yahr!!!

agentj — Sun, 28 Aug 2005 21:47:33 GMT

I've been fairly outbursty lately. While not exactly new to my nature, I've simply been letting this stuff run unfettered more and more. Just being incredibly angry at all slights against me, real or imagined. With my mental progress in mind, I reprint in total an old MySpace blog from April 5th of this year, followed by a postscript. It was titled "I'm Not Going To Be Marco" and it's mood was *infuriated*~~~ Some very close friends of mine are doing an Adam And The Ants tribute and I wasn't asked to Ant-Guitarist Marco Pirroni (see pic: back row, left). The guy that they asked instead will be an able guitarist and is a really nice guy himself, but I would be a superior Marco. Because: a) The guy my friends chose ABOVE me will probably not dress appropriately. Pirate garb and Native American drag is the look for an Ant. Bless him, he'll probably wear his same black t-shirt and black jeans. Maybe a teeny streak or two of make-up. I could be wrong, but mark these words. b) He shaves his head and has a Marco-inappropriate goat-tee. He will also likely not get a Marco-like wig on his dome. My hair on the other hand can be styled to look like Marco's on any given day. c) He plays a Paul Reed Smith guitar. These are the same guitars favored by Creed, Matchbox 20, Good Charlotte, a regular Shit-Band fuck-fest. Marco P. would never dare darken his shoulder with one of these aesthetically displeasing coffee table axes. Whereas I was contemplating acquiring a cheap Korean-made copy of Marco's faithful TV Yellow Les Paul Jr. just for the occasion. d) He may even wear glasses! I could go on, but I just feel like a furious little flea right now, shaking his tiny mortal flea-fists at a cruel and petty god. I'm going to go soak my fucking head. Fuck. Grr! ~~~The show went off as planned, with most of my gripes/predictions being accurate, from all accounts (My Best, Truest Friend was there, and brought me up to speed after the fact. It was performed, literally, around the corner from my house at 12 Galaxies. That night I went to karaoke at Annie's in a fury. Late in the evening a drunk bridge & tunnel girl danced into my drink, smashed it into a powder, and looked directly at me without apology. Dancing at karaoke is like cockblocking at a funeral... Even more pathetic or disturbing (depending on my attitude), I still haven't spoken to either of my two long-travelled close friends over this. To the best of my knowledge, they're both aware that I've been troubled by this for months, in which time I've been unwilling to mend the fence, to be the forgive & forget guy who offers the olive branch, a role I feel I've performed a 1,000,000 times in my life and am loathe to in this instance. Again and again I ask myself, "How far am I willing to draw this ridiculous situation out? Is it worth losing two of my most beloved peers over?", and just as often, I stare back from the abyss and say, "Fuck Them, let 'em come to me...". I should mention that my friend who put this project together, when he first told me about it, my immediate response was, "Dude, you asked someone else to be Marco? I'm totally Marco! What the fuck?!?", and to this he said, "You're right. You should just be Marco". The next time I brought it up, he told me that the Faux-Ants had decided to go with their original Inferior Marco and that I'd been out-voted, ostensibly with an additional vote from a friend who I share even more history with. The show was part of a multi-band showcase, and most Ants involved got to play in several aggregations throughout the evening. Also, it was part of an evening sponsored by my old place of employment. I truly miss the social aspect of the place, and am frequently dissapointed that I don't see friends from there more, a fair few of whom I shared a friendship with that predated our association there. And so it goes. Antmusic, a good synonym for the static in my brain...

ABCs Of Righteous Anger

agentj — Fri, 26 Aug 2005 22:21:55 GMT

Last night, in a fit of pique, I exploded in righteous indignation at two of my closest friends. They're still maybe scratching their heads over where the fuck such an outburst came from. But that's beside the point, which is: I went to Ritual still feeling the shame from my uncharacteristic outburst and had a sit-down with My New Best Friend. After laying out the story of my Vodka And Pique-related bummer she said to me these following Extremely Beautiful Words, "I do stuff like that.", at which point she regaled me with some of her best *shakes fists at god* stories. One of them; In her late teens, she was entertaining a not-small group of her closest friends at her place. Out of the room for a moment, one of same fed her pet chinchilla a Wheat Thin. On finding this out she blows her stack and starts with the pointing and screaming, "Who let this happen?!? Who thinks it's okay to feed people's pets human food?!? What were these Wheat Thins doing here in the goddamn first place?!? What kind of retard would do such a thing and what kind of traitor would allow this to happen while they sip a wine cooler in my home?!? No wheat! No salt! No human snacks! Chinchilla food only!!! Fuck you all!!! Out, bitches, out!!!", and starts throwing everyone's shit out the window as she demonstrates the direction of the door. I'm not saying I had as good a reason to flip out myself, only that it can really pick you up sometimes just hearing calming words to the effect of, "We're not so different.", or, "Hey, I'm nuts too."...

Updated List

agentj — Fri, 26 Aug 2005 19:56:35 GMT

Vodka is now to be called Gripewater, or perhaps The Juice Of Anger. Also, Foodie hereby replaces Metrosexual as my most reviled non-word.

Wheat Resurfaces in DJ Attakk (sic)!

agentj — Mon, 22 Aug 2005 05:22:50 GMT

~When Jeremy Wheat comes to play records, he comes heavy! Expect nothing less at the Argus, every Monday night 9pm, as he joins the excellent *resident DJ* for New Wave Punk In The Garage! ~All my favorite music from the late 70s/mid-to-late 80s! Rock & Glam jems, real early Punk, stone sissy New Wave, Dance & Pop! Just a really good time! Plus records a guy named Ref plays, and he's got deep crates too! ~Oh hell, yes! ~That's New Wave Punk In The Garage, every Monday night at the Missions Hippest, Most Friendliest, Freakin' Comfiest Hallway-Shaped Bar, The Argus (3187 Mission @ Valencia)! ~It's already cool there! I swear I'd be over there even if I wasn't spinning god-damnit! But when you add me on the 1s & 2s it's just mayhem! ~I went a few weeks ago and had two really good Mai-Tais! ~New Wave Punk In The Garage! Or Possibly "Punks", because I'm there too now! ~It's a pic of a New Wave Ken doll! Fucking New Wave Ken! Can you tell?! The "new wave" part got cropped out when I tried to read this post! But whatever!

Doo Bee Doo Bee Doo, Exchanging Glances

agentj — Sun, 31 Jul 2005 03:05:49 GMT

I was sitting around with Muldoon a minute ago, and I guess my neighbors are having a hippy wedding or other gazebo-inspired backyard gathering (it ain't a BBQ), because they have a guitarist playing. We could hear it clearly and the guy's decent (he's still playing as I write). Anyhow, at some point Muldoon and I are reminiscing about the Gypsy Kings Korny Kover version of My Way. Muldoon leaves. On my way back in, I can hear Fella playing My Way... Now he's playing a version of She's So Heavy that's a bit too fast.

I Googled Too Much To Dream Last Night

agentj — Tue, 19 Jul 2005 07:41:12 GMT

So I did a Google Image search on my first name last night. This little guy was the first pic up. As long as he uses his tridents for good, and never evil, I'm proud we both share the same christian name.

30-Minute Measles

agentj — Tue, 19 Jul 2005 01:10:35 GMT

"Too busy to catch measles the old-fashioned way? Purchase my new book at Borders and..." That's all I have really. I had the title and this image. That's all. Then I thought about a contention I've long held, wherein so long as you end any statement with, "---if you know what I mean.", you can make a lascivious innuendo of whatever preceded it. Thus, "Yeah, Rachael Ray's sort of a freak, but she can drain my bowtie noodles anyday---", which is actually reading pretty lascivious right now, so maybe that's a bad example. You could even end the whole shebang with, "---and I think you do!" to really finish big.

Just Can't Stoppit!

agentj — Sat, 16 Jul 2005 08:44:26 GMT

Brain looks like this right now. Basically one big groovy Good 'n' Plenty, only at a Ranking Full Stop...

Delicatessen

agentj — Fri, 15 Jul 2005 01:17:58 GMT

The guys that work at my local deli are straight up Old School. I'm a shit-disturbing sassafrass my damn self, but like I say, these guys are the genuine article. Mostly old dudes, All Union, mustache-havin', paper-hat wearing, trash-talkin real guys guys. Blank will back me up on this. Today, just for shooting the bull with him, my favorite Deli Guy, Al, gives me a half a pound of the aged Sicillian mozzarella. Al is short for Alfio, and that is so Old School. He's an older guy who I can talk shit about bush with (no CAPS intentional). Rarer than hen's teeth. It's like, "Dude, you're so my hero".

Last night I was called a name...

agentj — Wed, 29 Jun 2005 09:20:53 GMT

...a terrible name, hulrled at me by ill-informed white people. Ironically enough, they called me a racist, though not because of anything I'd said. I'd accused the weakest among them of being dishonest, and when he flew against me, denying everything (like a republican), accusing wildly and without foundation (like a republican), he ran back to his group and misrepresented something a friend of mine had said (to him alone) to his group. Once he'd distorted the truth, the coward had the group on his side. He no longer had need for the truth. The Card is easy to play for the accusers and hard for the accused to deny, as its denial is to be expected. As in the case of a neocon calling anyone disagreeing with them Un-American, it needs only be suggested to stand. It deeply hurt the piece of me that remembers being a young boy with few friends, holed up in his room with his comedy records, thinking how when I grew up I wanted to be like this man. Making people laugh if I could, and think.

Hey Hooker!

agentj — Fri, 24 Jun 2005 03:35:35 GMT

Christ on his crutch I had too much coffee today. Lately this has not been an item of historical note. Coffee is the Popeye to my Brutus, since it kicks my ass every day. I allow it to. I welcome it warmly. And unlike Brutus (et tu you?), I truly love this Popeye. One thing I did kick the ass of today, Patrick and I, we totally arranged the T.J. Hooker theme for two guitars. Bah-bah-bah, Bah-bahhh...

Last night I had a dream...

agentj — Tue, 21 Jun 2005 21:01:15 GMT

...I went back to Annie's and belted out Born In The U.S.A., only during the instrumental breaks and all of the drum-flams I went off on this whole great rant against neocons. Those half-a-motherfuckers, how I loathe them. They're all so predictable, "Oh, we're threatened so now we have to make hash of your liberties because we're a bunch of insecure know-it-all's who don't read book or news. Parrots to a one of us!". Anyhow that was an awesome dream and if I meant to do it for real, it's Tuesday, and I could tonight if I wanted. Fuck neocons.

Last night at Annie's I struck like Thunderball

agentj — Mon, 20 Jun 2005 02:59:34 GMT

...I experienced a rare moment of what I will call "body wisdom". After three vodka drinks, my fourth had begun to sour in me, possibly because me karaoke performance of Def Leppard's Photograph hadn't gone as well as I'd hoped. I had the moves, though not the notes and had sacrificed much of it to a Shatner-esque reading. Yes, 'reading' is the word. Knowing that the drink would serve me better as a tonic after my second number, I let it stand. My second song was to fulfill a long-held dream of mine, to sing Thunderball with much gusto in front of a load of song-happy barflies. Many Karaoke selections include a number of totally legit and awesome Tom Jones songs. I call that music, but no joint has ever served more than the usual suspects: Delilah, What's New Pussycat, Green Green Grass and so on. Long story long, Annie's had my jam and I tore it a new one. Short of going home with a pocket full of panties it went great. My choreography was inspired, my stance bow-legged, my voice throaty, and (as hoped) filled to brimming with gusto. Having perspired like the mighty T.J. himself, I swaggered back to my drink, it now tasting much like the dross from an angel's wing.