Wednesday, March 18, 2009

mid to late March, 09

D rallygators,

Hope your season of all things Irish is as green as the grass on the moors of Cork. We are going to stretch our season out at least until this coming Saturday with our first Colcannon show. A few of our friends, Brian Mullins and Mike Fitzmaurice, play in this lush and inventive Irish band, but it took us six years to convince them to come play the D Note. Help us show them a warm welcome. $12 advance tickets/ $15 at the door. 7:30pm.

After Colcannon Saturday night is Confunkcious w/ Giannina Ashe at 10pm, a solid funk band we discovered on New Band Night. $5.

During the day on Saturday, 4pm, we have more good St. Patrick tidings with Gobs 'O Phun, this month's installment of The Music Train Family Concert Series. $7 adults/$3 kids. We've had this band in a few times in the past and not only do they live up to their name, they're good.

Friday night we have a band new to the D Note, Tequila Mockingbird at 9pm. We've been hearing about this band for awhile and are proud to welcome them to the D. Playing at 8pm is a band formerly known as 10% Genius. This will be their first gig with their new moniker...Without Trees. Playing at 10:30pm is a humble sleeper band called 2:10 special. $5. Opening the night on Friday at 6pm there is an art opening showcasing the talents of D Note staffers Adam Ferrill, Carissa Rhodes and Matt Dougherty. The amazing Robert Eldridge will be providing musical accompaniment. A good eclectic home grown night

This last month of trivia with Geeks Who Drink at 6:30pm on Thursday nights has been a blast. If you haven't had a chance yet, come check it out.

Next weekend: Hazel and Hafla, Hafla and Hazel, Hazel and Hafla.


D fibberlooter

Extra Credit: Since we are stretching the celtic cheer, here's a poem by George Mackay Brown from a book we found in a used bookstore in Louisville, Co, "Poems for Every Day Life", editied by the poet Robert Hass. This poem would be hard to find if you were looking for it, which makes it a kind of fragile and tenuous thing, a found secret. The poem has traveled a long way to be here, passed on with care, bookstore to bookstore, reader to reader. We'll include Hass' introduction.

"I spent some time in August in the west of Scotland, on the Isle of Skye in the Inner Hebrides, and in the west of Ireland, in Galway and the Aran Islands. And I haunted bookstores aftewards in Dublin because the whole experience made me hungry for the language of those places. On the long flight home I read the poems of George Mackay Brown, a Scottish poet of the remote Orkney Islands in the far north. Brown was born in Stromness in the Orkneys in 1921 and lived for 70 years on those islands."


And we left our beds in the dark
And we drove a cart to the hill
And we buried the jar of ale in the bog
And our small blades glittered in the dayspring
And we tore dark squares, thick pages
From the Book of Fire
And we spread them wet on the heather
And horseflies, poisonous hooks,
Stuck in our arms
And we laid off our coats
And our blades sank deep into water
And the lord of the bog, the kestrel
Paces round the sun
And at noon we leaned on our tuskars
--The cold unburied jar
Touched, like a girl, a circle of burning mouths
And the boy found a wild bees' comb
And his mouth was a sudden brightness
And the kestrel fell
And a lark flashed a needle across the west
And we spread a thousand peats
Between one summer star
And the black chaos of fire at the earth's centre.

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