We walked toward a large metal container located on the forward-most extremity of the ship, where the ship comes together at a point. Inside the container were the needle guns, neatly stacked. The container reminded me of a large version of the cigar boxes that I used in elementary school, the kind that had pictures of pilgrims on it and was used to store my crayons, glue, and scissors. It was a huge cigar box full of long, metal cigars. Grady reached in and handed me my first needle gun. Next to the box of needle guns was a pile of black, coiled hoses, next to the hoses was another metal box filled with protective goggles, and next to the box of goggles was still another metal box filled with ear protection devices: large headphone-looking devices referred to as “Mickey Mouse ears.” Grady handed me one of each. He then quickly showed me how to hook the hose to the needle gun and then nodded for me to follow him to the port side of the ship where the petty officer in charge had pointed to. He explained, mostly through hand motions and body language that I was to use the needle gun to remove the paint from a section of the deck that he paced out for me. He showed me how to hook my hose up to a brass connector with many valves that several hoses could connect to, he showed me how to turn the needle gun on, and then indicated that I should get to work. He pointed to where he would be working, about a hundred feet away to starboard, spit over the side, and then left me to my task.

In boot camp the needle gun held a legendary status. My company commanders spun yarns of how the mighty needle gun saved many shipmates’ lives, prevented wars, ended wars; they even went on to talk about how needle guns promoted world peace and harmony. The needle gun could do all this, they always concluded, because it keeps ships in good repair; and when ships are kept in good repair they are better able to protect sailors because they are more impressive looking when visiting foreign ports, which means potential enemies will think twice about starting any problems, and, without any problems: world peace and harmony. The needle gun was in constant battle with the elements, especially sea salt. The salt from the sea eventually corroded even the best protected metal if the metal is not frequently stripped clean of its paint and primer and given a new coat of primer and paint.

At last, with needle gun in hand, I was ready to do real work as real sailors do. As I lowered myself to sit down on the deck, my body reminded me that it still had much healing to do. But the deck was still cool and it felt good on the backs of my legs. I twisted the shaft of the needle gun, permitting the high-pressure air to agitate the bunch of thick metal needles, just like Grady showed me. I was not prepared for the gun’s immediate surge of power and the intensity of the vibration. It jumped from my hand and fell to the deck and spasmodically writhed and jerked away from me. I lunged after it, but the gun, unrestrained and powered by the high-pressure air, quickly snaked out of my reach and headed toward the gunwale. I crawled as fast as I could after the gun and dove after it just as it was about to rattle over the side. I missed. The gun went over and I wanted to go over with it. However, for once, I got lucky: it was a long way down to the water; the needle gun was attached to a hose; I happened to land on the hose when I dove. Still, the gun made it about half way down the side of the ship before it came to an abrupt stop in mid-flight and swung into the side of the ship with bang that, even with all the combined noise of the needle guns, and even through the hearing protection, all who were on or near the forecastle could hear. The gun continued to rattle and shake and make much noise as I reeled it back up as quickly as I could. All goggled eyes, including Grady’s, were on me.

With both hands fast around the needle gun, I finally got to work. I felt the vibration of the gun through every inch of my body. I had to hold my jaw shut tight or else my teeth would rattle together. Finally, the vibration began to feel like a total body massage and I took comfort in it. The vibrations reached every part of my body. I too was vibrating and it felt as if I had become part of the needle gun. I imagined that my body, vibrating in unison with the gun, possessed its power. With one finger, or toe, or elbow, I could remove any paint, or rust, or non-skid from the entire ship. I could place my hand on the deck, and when I removed it, all the paint would be gone from where my hand was, leaving behind what appeared to be my handprint. I imagined other things and enjoyed the task. The needles easily removed the paint from the metal; however, the circumference of the needles was only about one inch around so I quickly realized that it took much effort to remove anything more than a small area of paint. Just as suddenly the surge of extra energy rushed in, it receded. I felt more exhausted than I had ever felt in my life. The nature of the task forced me to spend most of my time on my hands and knees. My wrists became sore and my knees felt raw. It was not long before the novelty of the task wore off and the monotony set in.

As noon approached, the sun strengthened and burned off the lingering clouds from yesterday’s storm. The standing water vaporized into a thick, hot blanket of humidity. I became soaked with sweat. I became thirsty. The needle gun became slippery. My hands cramped. My head ached. I became dizzy. And when, through the haze, I saw Petty Officer Stricter climbing down to the forecastle, I fainted.

I have fainted before, so fainting, in and of itself, was not strange to me. What was strange was that I could see myself fainting. I could see the gun slip from my hands and begin, once again, i
ts crazy, jumping bean dance. I could see the deck rushing up to meet my face. I did not, thankfully, feel the pain. Someone rolled me over and, just before I blacked out, I could see Petty Officer Stricter standing over me screaming.

I have read that some people fantasize about killing themselves. Death arouses them. They lie in bed and plot their own demise in their mind the way others lie in bed and fantasize about sex. I have never wanted to die. I have always had a fear of the unknown in life so I have never been particularly fond of thinking about the biggest unknown of them all. Granted, I have learned to find a certain level of comfort in pain, but I have never desired to inflict pain upon myself. However, at the moment of my revival--the instant after the cold salt water hit my face and I realized what had just happened to me and that I had once again found myself in an uncomfortable situation that would most likely cause me additional psychological discomfort--I confess that I wished that I could die.

When I came to, Petty Officer Stricter was still standing over me and screaming. Goggled eyes had left their work area and now hovered over me. Needle guns vibrated restlessly in their hands. Petty Officer Stricter was not screaming for the goggled eyes to stand back so that I could get some air; nor was he screaming for someone to call the medics. He was screaming that the call for chow was still five minutes away and that a lot of work can be accomplished in five minutes. He was screaming for all of the goggled eyes to get their asses back to work. He was screaming that this faggot piece of shit lying at his feet was not worth wasting five minutes of work over. I had to agree with him: I felt like shit and I certainly did not feel as valuable as five minutes of work.

A trilling whistle was heard over the 1MC, the ship’s loudspeaker, which was a signal to knock off ship’s work. Petty Officer Stricter walked directly to the petty officer in charge and barked out some orders. The petty officer in charge stood up and made a slicing motion with his hand across his neck. The monstrous hum of the needle guns slowly died down until the only sound I heard was the ringing in my ears. We were told to return all of our gear and then secure for chow. I shuffled around, pretending to know what I was doing, until Grady came over and slowly explained the proper way to break down the needle gun and secure it. While I was stowing the hose and Grady was explaining his technique to remove non-skid from the deck was similar to skinning coons, Petty Officer Stricter walked up to us.

“Dirty Grady, here’s what you’re gonna do,” he explained as he began writing notes on his clipboard. “You’re gonna take Miss Faint-of-Heart here to a romantic meal and fill his queasy belly with some of our fine Navy cuisine, and then, you’re gonna check him in. And when you’re done with that, find me ‘cause you and I got some talking to do.” He stopped writing and looked directly me. And as he spoke, he poked Grady in the chest with the clipboard, “And don’t forget to get our little precious here a set of curtains for his rack so he can have a little privacy tonight.” Of course, Grady forgot.

Here's the thing with GZA's Liquid Swords: it totally rules. And if you can't tell already, I'm looking very forward to seeing GZA perform with Del this Friday @ Forecastle. I see live music all the time. Every week. I love it. But seeing brilliant live hip hop in this town is hard to come by. There are some great local acts, don't get me wrong. But Louisville doesn't get renowned national hip hop acts very often. And even if they say they're coming, they still have to actually show up. And you better get there early 'cause you're getting searched at the doors.

BUT, what I really want to discuss is Liquid Swords. If you don't own this, go get it. If you are looking for an extension of the classic Samurai sound of Wu-Tang, this is the jam. As for best solo release by a Wu-Tang member? I don't know. I really really liked Ghostface's Pretty Toney Album. But they both have pretty different sounds & in keeping with the genius of Wu-Tang, both MC's have totally different MC styles. GZA might be my favorite Wu-Tang member right now. Liquid Swords is brilliant. Top to bottom.

One of the best things about summer festivals these days is that even if you don't end up going to the festival that you've been waiting all year to attend, there's a good chance you still might be able to be there without actually being there. Now I know some people aren't too fond of live recordings, especially from festivals, but one of the best things about more popular festivals is that there's still a good chance you'll can download whatever performances you've missed in mp3/FLAC audio or watch practically the entire performance on any number of video websites (youtube, vimeo, dailymotion). The AT&T Blue Room does live video broadcasts for Bonnaroo, New Orleans Jazz Fest and Coachella, which is awesome when you can just maximize the video on a flatscreen and sit back and watch it with at home, instead of dealing with a bunch of Chads and Trixies in 100 degree weather.

Anyways, I'm not sure how long this will last or if this will become an annual thing, but I just thought I'd provide those who are interested in quality live mp3 recordings of bands from summer festivals. As I said before, some people just aren't fans of live recordings, but honestly I think that's bullshit because most artists tend to improvise quite a bit when they're comfortable in that energetic festival surrounding, with thousands fans cheering them on, craving more. Hell, at Bonnaroo this year, The Raconteurs played "Blue Veins" for almost ten minutes (which isn't uncommon, but still pretty insane), and My Morning jacket performed for something like three or four hours.

I've provided links to those two performances as well as live recordings from Coachella, Bonnaroo and Glastonbury. Just a few of the recordings have a couple of songs cut off because of the live BBC and Blue Room recordings, and some are just one single mp3. Sorry for the inconvenience there, but it's the best I could do. Check back in a few weeks for Pt. 2, after I've made it through Rock the Bells, Forecastle and Lollapalooza. And I'll definitely update if I come across any more interesting downloads from these festivals or anything from Rock Werchter or Roskilde.

Coachella 2008

Portishead - Live At Coachella 2008 [tracklist]

Aphex Twin - Live At Coachella 2008 [tracklist]

Check out more downloads from Prince, MGMT, Black Kids, Spiritualized, Roger Waters, Goldfrapp and many more at the Largehearted Boy.

Bonnaroo 2008

My Morning Jacket - Live At Bonnaroo 2008 [tracklist]

The Raconteurs - Live At Bonnaroo 2008 [tracklist]

Death Cab For Cutie - Live At Bonnaroo 2008 [tracklist]

Broken Social Scene - Live At Bonnaroo 2008 [tracklist]

Largehearted Boy, Deaf Indie Elephants, and Mystic Chords of Memory also have some pretty big collections of stuff from Bonnaroo too, so head over there if you want your Ben Folds, Metallica, Chris Rock, Cat Power and Sigur Ros.

Glastonbury 2008

Jay-Z - Live At Glastonbury 2008 [tracklist]

Massive Attack - Live At Glastonbury 2008 [tracklist]

Band of Horses - Live At Glastonbury 2008 [tracklist]

A-Trak - Live At Glastonbury 2008 [tracklist]

I haven't come across a nice set of downloads from Glastonbury. So if you'd like to check out other Glastonbury audio recordings, your best bet would be any major torrent site, such as mininova.org, where you can find recordings from The Verve, Lupe Fiasco, The Kills, The Ting Tings, Amy Winehouse, Kings of Leon and many others.

If you all have been listening to any awesome live shows recently, feel free to send me an email or drop some links in the comment box.