I haven't been writing much lately, here or anywhere, really. I don't have the stomach to publicly air personal grievances so much anymore, and spending any time at all writing up my thoughts on the latest film/record/meme I've absorbed seems utterly ridiculous (it's easier to just post links on Facebook and let the followers make up their own minds) ... this era we "live" in is overloaded with opinions, half-baked judgements handed down instantaneously without a chance at reflection, usually informed by whichever pundits and cultural critics we are drawn to through our particular political/social leanings. I just can't help but feel that in a world where everyone's voice gets an equal volume (via the internet, which provides anyone with access a platform), opinion becomes devalued. It's a quandary I can't grapple successfully with ... the age-old fascism of "experts" (who are often wrong) and "tastemakers" (who are merely privileged) vs. the populist nightmare of simple minds brought up to believe that every impulse is pure and correct and must be expressed. I've lived my life believing wholeheartedly in the latter, but at 42 years of age, which includes a decade soaking in the internet's utopianism, I must admit that the answer, as usual, can only be found in the middle.

But who the fuck is me? I'm writing this at 1:43pm, I'll post it within the next ten minutes or so. I am as weak with zeitgeist as anyone. We are all wrong, so very, very wrong, about everything we think we know. And everything I wrote in the previous paragraph is simply a prelude to discussion about the Jeni Lee Richey Explosion, which seems to be the only thing I'm currently inclined to cover in this "online diary" (such an archaic term now, but one that I took a little too seriously for the first many years of my so-called "blogging"). My life is none of your business anymore, not what I think about the Touch & Go Fanzine reunion that I didn't go to last weekend, not how I feel about my rapidly aging body, not what's going on in my work as a professional microfiche technician, not nothing. Got my phone number? Give me a call, I'll tell you more than you wanna know.

Anyhow, JLR/TGT gigged last Friday night at the Old Miami, a legendary venue in Detroit's Cass Corridor, and while we've had some satisfying shows in the past, this was the first that felt really right. We had power, spontaneity and precision, and of course only my pal Ed was present to attest to this fact (word is there is video/audio footage available, but I've yet seen it and until I do I must assume it doesn't exist). Doesn't matter, I know that it's true, so does Jeni, who came to me wild-eyed later in the night to proclaim "We've done it. We are ready." She's right. We're going to Ghetto in two weekends to lay down some serious full-band tracks, so unless the muse quits us I'll have plenty to crow about before Fall hits. We'll be in Ypsilanti, Lansing and Hamtramck in the months to come, so please do come.