Drugstore Gaucho

Che, boludos! It's been a really action-packed week. I explain you now. I'M GONNA BE ON A REAL LIVE CD!!! Roommate of friend Brad is an accordion-playing israeli musician composer. He's been working on a record for the last year. And lately on a track called, Take Five Bulgarians, a crazy little version of Brubeck's "Take Five" in a crazy little mixed meter with a weird middle eastern key signature. So on Thursday, I went to a studio and recorded my bit which will be mixed into the bunch. And it was a lot harder than I thought would be, go figure. But I've had my first studio recording experience and the best part. It seems that this is a disc that will be sold in stores and everything. So, not having graduated yet or even being a music major, I'm on a real CD. And come saturday, some friends of distant conntection through my tango teacher invited me to ¨zapar¨with them on saturday in Provincia. For me, provincia means dirt roads, noncity-dwelling, goo...

Cora wakes me from my slumber. There occurred an episode in the club which I am unsure that I want to/lack the creative energy to describe right now. I may return to the theme. In any case, directly after the episode, I was motivated to leave the club very quickly. However, I did not leave with my friend, Brad. This is his story. While I was sitting on a bus, reflecting on my life-changing experience, Brad thought that I was still in the club and commenced to search for me. I was not to be found. Brad, apparently not terribly concerned about my disappearance, decided to stick around inside the club to hear the band play. I should take a minute to explain that cumbia villera is really pretty bad, all things considered. Musically speaking, it is about as complex as a ham sandwhich, which is to say, easy enough to make, but capable of killing Mama Cass. Yeah. The band begins and the people in the club just started freaking out. For all of you interested in the absurd schedule of the place...