Making Out

Valentine's Day, that fateful day when some obscure Roman martyr was buried, has come and gone. The Summer of Love, what I and my friends have been calling the winter heat spell we just had in San Francisco, is over. Cold rain pours down on Dolores Park. I have the snotty sniffles. But the inspiration of those few hot weeks is still with us as we journey forth into what many foresee being a frickin' awesome 2009.

Parts For People just had an amazing show at the infamous Make-Out Room. The Desoto Reds, a band from Oakland, thrilled us with archetypal indie beatlesesqueness that intrigues and unfolds into a sound all their own. The experienced sound guy turned our mortal voices into angelic harmonics that even Zeus himself would envy.

We were asked if the cameras in our faces distracted us, I guess Hector, the video guy was getting a little artsy. But no, we didn't notice a thing! The songs overtook us. The crowd's howling created an animal gravity that kept our rock in orbit, and taught us the true meaning of love. Love isn't a thing to be looked at, a thing to be consumed, a thing to manipulate with the mechanisms of our greed and fear-driven ambition. Love is when a man and a woman (or a woman and a woman) get together, howl at the moon, and try to make an egg stand on end. Or just make out.

SF Station, a sweet city guide with almost every event going on in town, was cool enough to shoot both video and photography. Look for your beautiful mug shots and footage of the show on their site this week.

And due to multiple requests we'll be posting song lyrics here on the blog. 

To the guy who signed the email list "mademewanttofart@hotmail.com", just grow up, man. I know your name isn't really Fantastic Fruit of Your Loom.

THE END   

 

Tea AND Coffee

Parts For People is soon to record monster songs based on collective memory, filtered through years of being force-fed bad pop. The current process unfolds thusly:

 

Tim diligently works his wood. His workshop is crystal-like, precise in its angular arrangement. Tools, small jewels, slowly chipping away at the raw material of the natural world. And out of the cave, this dark hole in the side of the hill they call Potrero, are birthed baby guitars... And the bass with which he rocks.

Ben, asleep in his nesty room, awakes upon hearing the click-clock-clack of boards hitting the concrete of the nearby skate park. He descends the Hill, soon entering the valleys and crannies of surfable stone. Catching one last taste of flow, he uses its inertia to slide onto and into the infamous number 33 bus.  

The air is filled with rhythm, the wheels of this bus go round and round. He arrives at Amoeba Records. People speak to him but he hears not their words, only frequencies and harmonics, the curse of a Sound Engineer. He deciphers and names in his mind each and every tone as someone asks, "Like, where is the Jack Johnson section?" He translates into the forgotten language of drum and replies to the dumbfounded USF student, 

"BLIKM, BLAKM!"

Don, hovering over the twin realities of spirit and material San Francisco, realizes his tea is finished and that he must water the Dragon. The Dragon is life, the Dragon is the world. He relieves himself and sets forth upon the Mission streets, after taking way too long deciding what to wear. He wanders, seeking guidance from the universe, crossing the same street twice, meandering between states of power and shear retardedness, he receives a message from the Underworld:

Today you shall drink Tea AND Coffee!

 

 

   

       

The last show was an intimate evening for us as we played to a pre-holiday crowd huddled around us in a circle of power.

Dot Punto rocked out before us , adding some purely electronic numbers to the mix with a guest artist on the laptop. They have new songs for almost every show. The opener was Latino rock sensation Luis Morales and the Lucifer Diamante, a totally radical sabbatical.

For the Parts for People set, the crowd formed an arch just off the stage. It was made up of some of my favorite people, making for a very intimate feeling.

During our song The Desert we sing "I feel my whole life is being televised before these stars." I've felt it before, but those words were especially relevant during this show as I looked out at my good friends.

It's like you are all stars and I'm a telescope checking out your fine celestial bodies. But you have telescopes too, and then we see each other and are like, "Whoops...busted," but continue looking anyway. 

Parts For People!

 

Parts For People

This is the first blog of this nature for Parts For People. In an effort to create new people for parts in the ongoing Rock-u-drama taking place across conceptual borders, we decided to create a band meant to act as a magnetic attractor and transmitter of new emotional patterns for use in every day creative life. In this sense we are also creating new parts for people already in existence, energetic organs evolved to support the classical ideal of the past while clearing space for the new frontiers to come.

Wait, what?

Listen to our music    HERE