Thursday, June 16, 2011

D Note Love Letter 6/16/11

D rail,

A couple of accolades have come our way. Salsa Central have named us the best place to dance salsa in Colorado, which is a quite an honor as there are some great salsa clubs around. We were also voted best place to hear live music in JeffCo by Mile High Newspapers. Huzzah!

For dinner music this Friday night at 5pm we have nuevo-flamenco music, with Chordzilla and Guitarsaurus. This duo wowed us last time and are back by popular demand. Free.

Jon Boland will be playing at 7p Friday and Treehouse Sanctum at 8pm. $5. Mellow and beautiful.

Then we'll have another great Cumbia/Bachata latin band at 9:30p on Friday, Los Chavos Dun Dun. w/ DJ Juanito. $10 /$5 ladies.

Saturday we have a tango lesson at 3pm followed by a the big band jazz of Serenade In Blue at 4pm. $10.

Saturday at 7pm we have the return of Laughing Hands. This stellar group is made up of master musicians Steve and Brian Mullins, Mike Fitzmaurice, Ed Rudman and Ed Contreras. They have not played the D Note in half a decade and we can't wait to hear one of our favorite bands again after all these years. The music is hard to describe, but includes original compositions written in a world fusion style. $7.

Saturday at 9pm we come back home with the Americana of Olive Street Rehab, followed by Johnny Barber and The Living Deads at 10:30pm. This is the first, uh, incarnation of The Living Deads we've had at the D Note. This is one of Johnny Barber's illustrious rockabilly projects. Some of you may remember Barber as Velvet Elvis. $5.

Thanks for being you, you.

D Train

Extra Credit: This week a classic, a villanelle by Elizabeth Bishop.

One Art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

Love Letter 6/9/11

D File

If you dig the D Note then please vote for us in Intuit's "Love A Local Business" contest. Easy to do and it could be a big help to us. Thanks in advance!

Congrats to Paige Becker for winning the D Note dessert contest. Her entry was: 'Cinnamon Sugar crust. Chocolate sauce topped with lots of strawberry slices. Name it "Strawberry Fields Forever"!' Our chef and GM chose the winner. We'll feature that dessert pie for the next week. It was a close contest as there were some great entries. Check out our Facebook page to see some of the others.

This Friday we have a great little bluegrass band called The Hummin'birds playing the free Friday afternoon concert at 5pm. Check out the crazy cool poster they did for the show here. Then we switch to jugband music with Roscoe's Dusty Bottle Boxcar Band feat. Bret Sloan at 7pm. Followed by the smooth pop of The Ash Ganley Band at 8pm. $5.

Friday at 9:30p we have hard-core latin dance w/ 9 piece band Kaoba and DJ Juanito. $10/$5 ladies. Bachata, Cumbia, Reggaeton. Come dance and help us get this series off the ground.

Saturday night we have the return of Blues Torch at 7pm. These guys packed the house last time and put on a great show. Come dancing. $5.

Saturday at 9pm we have 3 indie bands, all with very cool names, Lounge Eater, Postal Holiday and Cougar Pants. $5.

Next Tues we have a benefit for a super cool new org called Communified Sounds that sends musicians out to hospitals to play for the sick. Music really does have the power to heal and so we are very psyched about this show. They pulled together 3 fantastic bands too, The Gypsy Lumberjacks, Rogue Sound and Jet Edison. Stellar. $10 suggested donation.

Next week we have the long awaited return of Laughing Hands, plus Johnny Barber and The Living Deads and more. Check out for more details.


D Rank

Extra Credit: Here's a poem by a mysterious poet named Truck Darling. Enjoy.


St. Matthew 26: 6-13 & Isaiah 50: 4-7

The tenant next door: a prince of the night

with diamond vocals. I have trouble chewing

with grace, need a voluptuous rescue dog

to stay warm so I can keep working off

the grid in mascara. The violent must need

to put their pain somewhere? I had his head

handed to me & I know what to do with it. I

parade the length of 9th Ave. in Converse

& pearls. People yell at me & I find myself

on planes, passed out on dirt, a lone ascetic

in noon pajamas. A potpourri of hockey feet

& quicksand in my cot. When things get crazy,

my impulse is to go radical, crack up during

a Lifetime cameo. My resolve wishes to cave

like an avalanche, but I’ve set my face like flint,

like Rushmore. I know I shall not be put to shame.

I shall not be locked away in fear with this deer

musk, a wet leather jacket, ginger ale. The saddest

shepherd’s pie attracts me to myself. The trust we

love maybe attracts us to ourselves. It’s arrogance

to think I am breathing without a machine. At least

the Blood & Beer Days are over on my soaked earth.

I’d awfully like to drift back into a world of fireflies,

single~pump gas stations, overalls & 1st century

Palestinian sunbeams shooting through my dirty hair

before everything became so… but Love detonates

softly in my present. You are my regal tripwire, it is

good to keep stumbling like this I’m thinking?

Thursday, June 2, 2011

D Note love letter 6/2/11

D ssert

We've got a contest challenge for all of you. If you've got an idea for a fantastic dessert pie, then suggest it on our Facebook page, including a band or song related name. Winner gets a large pie of his or her creation, plus a spot on our specials board. Can hardly wait to taste what you come up with.

This weekend starts off this Friday at 5pm with a kid from Austin Texas named Hogan Sullivan. This kid is great! Free.

Then at 7pm Friday night a local legendary band in the making, the Omnibuds, take the stage. Omnibuds is quite a name. The moniker is obviously derived from "Ombudsman", meaning an official appointed to investigate individuals' complaints against maladministration, esp. that of public authorities. but it is made much more evocative here. "Omni" means "all" and "buds" can mean friends, flowers, etc. Cool Americana music too. $5.

At 9:30pm we begin a new series at the D Note. This is for lovers of hard core latin dancing and music. It is called Noches Tropicalia and for our opening night we'll have a great band, Los Lunaticos. DJ Javi will spin before, between and after. $10 for men, $5 for ladies. Expect Reggaeton, Cumbia, Bachata and some hot dancing.

Saturday we have the big band jazz of Sentimental Sounds at 4pm. This is a benefit for a great local organization Jeffco Outdoor Lab Foundation. $10 suggested donation.

Saturday at 7pm we have a showcase for a local studio, Global Sounds, featuring some of their bands. Free.

Saturday at 9pm we have a CD release for Mike Murray. The CD is called "International" and it is pop, pops. $5

For more info check out And don't forget to dream up your dream dessert pie and enter it into our Facebook page.


D pest

Extra Credit: This poem by Dean Young showed up the other day from Poetry Daily. It is a funny puzzle garden of a poem.


Maybe we put too much faith in the heart
when any blockhead knows everything falls apart,
turn to mush the storied administrations of the brain,
there's no statue that won't eventually dissolve in rain,
the continents are in pieces, the empire a mess,
the fleece full of holes, the rivers distressed.
Not what we promised and swore, didn't and did,
not the terrible things that happened to us as kids
makes much diff. We're the types
who bring parasols to gunfights.
A dove backfires, a dump truck coos,
everything's out of whack since I lost you.
Worse than a job chicken-processing,
worse than a courtroom of the deaf addressing,
like trying on a shirt with the pins still in it,
listen to the heart you'll soon regret it.
The photos in their oval frames bestow blame and frown,
whatever you used all your might to heave into the air is due to
come crashing down.
Not the hatchet job you wanted but the one you took,
you stagger from the feast for a look
at a polluted brook, rather polluted yourself.
You feel like something fallen from its shelf,
a yo-yo with a busted string, chipped ceramic elf
because all you can think about is not there,
the eyes not there, not there's hair.
You still don't know what to say
and keep saying it, still trying to give your hiding place away
making a silly commotion with the leaves
of the tree you're falling from. But once that paper's creased,
there's no uncreasing. Once the numbers are deleted,
there's nothing to add up. So time for the tarry slumber
of so what who cares what's it matter,
what should be open closes, should be soft hardens
while the next set of fools scampers into the puzzle garden
detonating with laughter.