The Big Bounce rolled into the Colony Theater on Friday for a rollicking 75-minute set.

At times the place was swinging. Other ballads sounded intimate. All of it felt hot.

I mean, like, my dick was hard from the start.

Sexiness is not lost on this duo (& Patrick too). They’re hot!! Their music makes satin wet.

Ocean Drive recently named The Bounce among Miami’s almost famous.

It’s true. And it’s on, especially when Kom goes off, like bounce to this, come on, bounce to this.

All the ladies in the house gonna bounce to this / and all the fellas in the house gonna bounce to this.

Buckwild!?! And Brendan can carry a note from here to the Miracle Mile.

It took a few songs for the theater crowd to realize they could get off their feet.

I mean. Hello. How can you not??

But like Bren sings: “take your time, take your time, take your motherfucking time.”

And soon the front area of the stage filled with swinging swagger, all loose off of Russian Standard vodka; 3.0.5.’s finest decked out in classy elegance; singing along to Big Bounce favorites. It looked REAL good.

The Colony was a family affair.

The Bounce had eight talented musicians accompany them.

And after every song screams of the audience filled out the old theater’s acoustics.

Champagne and Apple Juice. It’s the bromosa. And it’s all good . . .

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The Big Bounce can be seen at the Delano’s Florida Room on Tuesdays.

Welcome to the Headz the Novel blog!!! The mission of this site will be to report on issues and events related to music festivals, culture and the counterculture, arts, politics, comedy, and anything else. This cite will focus on real things, while the headzthenovel website will serve as a companion piece to the book. Enjoy the ride, and feel free to contribute. This long, strange trip is open ended, and open to all . . .

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The Moksha Family Art Collective is a powerful light in Miami.

For years, Moksha has provided a hub for like-minded headz. Headz who bath in a unified collective consciousness. Headz who see truth and beauty in art and music and in each other.

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Moksha’s message and events consistently  promote peace, understanding, tolerance, and good memorable times.

This year’s Fair was no exception. The 59th street warehouse in Little Haiti transformed into a Mecca of visionary art and consciousness topped with intelligent day panel discussions and an open gallery free to the public.

Moksha had on exhibit original art from Alex Grey, Mark Henson, Fred Weidmann, Shrine, Alison Grey, and more.

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On Friday night, a bus tour of the satellite

Art Basel expositions trolled around town.

The bus hit up places like Scope and Nada in steezy-style.

Moksha’s pimped-out whip, recently back from a cross-country pilgrimage always pushes the on-the-road experience further….

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On Saturday night, the warehouse opened itself up to one of the dopest jams of the year.

Outside, hundreds gathered in a Dr. Seuss like playground.

Inside the warehouse, with Bluetech on the decks, and Alex Grey  painting live, there was about a twenty-minute window that’s almost hard to describe. One could feel a sense of self in combination with a collective truth and beauty. It was downright dirty-ass fun tickling every spirit in the room. Every boom from the deejay. Each stroke of brush was fun. And with each strobe of light flashing, your heart beat as one. You would’ve had to have been there. But that’s the thing. You were, in spirit.

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It’s easy and cliche’ for the mainstream to write-off the Moksha Family Art Collective as granola crunching Burners bent on partying  who need a ticket to the vision, but what’s missing consistently is the simple message that’s right there: Be aware. That’s it.

Awareness.

Look. Did you see it. It’s right there. We’re all here. Simple.

No drugs needed. No special pass.

It’s beautiful to celebrate consciousness through a gathering of music and art.

Don’t judge it. Feel it.

Don’t label it. It could just as easily label you.

Just see it. That’s the evolution. That’s the vision.

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Moksha in Miami brings two quotes to mind, both by Hermann Hesse, both from Steppenwolf:

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‘Most men will not swim before they are able to…They are born for the solid earth, not for the water.” 

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or better yet this one:

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“MAGIC THEATER ENTRANCE NOT FOR EVERYBODY. I tried to open the door, but the heavy old latch would not stir. The display was over. It had suddenly ceased, sadly convinced of its uselessness. I took a few steps back, landing deep into the mud, but no more letters came. The display was over. For a long time I stood waiting in the mud, but in vain. Then, when I had given up and gone back to the alley, a few colored letters dropped here and there, reflected on the asphalt. I read: FOR MADMEN ONLY!”

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At the end of the day, events like these do not put themselves together. They require a ton of work from a team of people. There’s a lot of planning and designing and rigging and organizing that goes unseen. And at the end of the day, headz who live in Miami should feel grateful and blessed for the Family behind the scenes bringing the rawness to the surface for those of us who can see. Cuz the magical show unfortunately isn’t for everyone . . .

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J.D. Salinger has always interested me.

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He was a man of intense recluse and privacy. He garnered as much acclaim as anyone, yet he had zero desire for public exposure. He rarely made appearances or granted interviews. He didn’t care to play the role of sage or critic or leader-of-the-pack. He didn’t want to be bothered.

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Salinger  had no answers.  He created Holden Caulfield, a symbol of psychological freedom, rebellion and individuality for generations. What else could one want from him?? He exposed truth through his art and then left it alone.

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Salinger represented a type of writer I admired. A writer who is a reflection of his characters  yet removed from the creation. That’s an important distinction I believe killed other influences of mine like Jack Kerouac, Ernest Hemingway, and Hunter Thompson, who weren’t able to escape the shadow of their creations, and all eventually took their own lives (Kerouac drinking himself to death).

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Over the years I would Google J.D. Salinger just to see if the old fart was still alive. I was driven by curiosity. Eager to see if he could get away with his reclusiveness or if he would meet some poor demise.

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I paid homage to Salinger in Headz. On p.142, in an important scene where Thelonious reaches his personal climax walking around the Lot. Thelonious, when he is most alive, is a catcher of all that is lost, including himself.

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“Completely elevated, Thelonious  ventured further on Shakedown Street. Five paramedics ran toward the corner. Another one bites and another one bites. The dust on a Southern car caught his eye. The fat red laces on a pair of Adidas caught his eye. He caught a brand new price tag hanging off Birkenstock sandals. Thelonious looked up to catch a poseur Federal agent. Thelonious knew a phony when he saw  phony. He caught everything, even his own reflection in the window of a Subaru Outback. He caught the New York plates and nodded. He even caught the town, Rye.”

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J.D. Salinger was able to pass away from natural causes at the age of 91. He did it. The ol bugger made it. Salinger took us to the highest peaks of literary truth; he wrestled with the devil and lived in his own way happily ever after…

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Somewhere during our travels someone traded us a copy of Big Fearless and Play, Wookiefoot’s new album, for a copy of Headz; a super duper headie trade. Btw–if you’re at a show, bring something to trade–you won’t regret it–anything from some art of yours, drugs, food, clothes, anything, even a piece of string, it’s all zoo-zoo. We’ll trade you a copy of Headz fo sho! !

Anyway, Wookiefoot. Big fun!! Their album Big Fearless and Play is on the goodfoot fiz-unk Love tip, with a sound that brings to mind all sorts of styles, with even a few samples Hurrican Clout!! would nod their head to. Word up steez!!

Shout to the wookie. They comin up in Oh10′–u bettah believe it.

They understand our universal collective steez based in love & consciousness, not fear; and they sharing, y’all…

This is our evolution live-n-direct. Check out their song “Junk Food.”

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Part of the whole festie experience is definitely trading. You can trade for almost anything, especially at a Phish show. This barter mentality has its roots in Rainbow gathering culture, with events like the Oregon County Fair being a prime example of a specific occasion where trading for goods supercedes those western $ ducats $. 

At 16, J.J. attended a barter fair at the Kesey farm in Oregon. He was too young to really know what was going on. He was reading a lot of Carlos Castanda books. He didn’t even know who Ken Kesey was. But he remembered the circus vibe.

And he remembered feeling okay. Like God Bless The Freaks!!

Trading is a practice unique to going to a show. It is a custom that won’t die. It is tradition.

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All Hollow’s Eve, October 31st, three sets, Polo Grounds, mountains on the horizon, forty thousand of us spread out in different camps: Kid A, Oracular Spectacular, Exile on Main Street. Electric Lady Land was Shakedown. The place to be. And that’s where we were cold kickin it, campin right off Shakedown, a rock’s throw from the Disco Bus, a Frisbee’s toss from the body painting station. 

J was a tad spun, chilling with Molly, all smiles, painted like a warrior. Our brethren got popped by these Agents in trendy flannyl shirts. They took us. But positive jedi mind tricks let us live for another festie; the Agents even gave us a ride back to the show in a golf cart.

Anybody have any pics from this event?? Send them in & we’ll post them up.

The 2009 Mile High Festival split open and melt.

Catching Paulo Nutini, Lyrics Born, Devotchka and 3oh3! for the first time was off-the-hook! These acts are already huge and will have a great Oh10′.  Catch them if and when you can, kidz!

The all-access pass from Rumbum helped too. Those rumbum guys are great!!

The local writer flailed and Jdubs had to write a record 22 articles covering this festival for Rumbum.

And he still hustled 40 copies of the book.

Freak-a freak-a freakin the funk . . .

This festie perfectly represented how the music festival has evolved beyond jambands. Granted, festie and jamband staples like Widespread Panic, Gov’t Mule and Matisyahu were in-the-house, but the festival didn’t limit itself.

The best music festivals now offer something for everyone and that’s how it should be.

Y10K ? ? ? Cause it’s doper than Charlie Parker’s veins . . .

10,000 Lakes was one of the best festivals of the summer. This is a part of the world you just don’t get to visit enough. During the summertime, headz from all coasts will serve themselves by venturing to this event. No joke. The weather tickled; the music trickled; the landscape sparkled; the  party rock-led.  Widespread Panic, Dave Matthews band, and Wilco headlined the three day fest.

Dude-check out their photo gallery to see the beauty of this event. Go next year!!

We’ll see you there . . .

]]> http://headzthenovel.com/blog/?feed=rss2&p=22 1 http://headzthenovel.com/blog/?p=15 http://headzthenovel.com/blog/?p=15#comments Sat, 12 Sep 2009 17:05:50 +0000 admin http://headzthenovel.com/blog/?p=15 Ishmael Reed came through Miami Dade College this afternoon and shared his tribal and rebellious spirit to a packed house of Honors College students. Reed's long and illustrious career has served as a symbol of America's thriving counterculture for decades. The warrior image he carries fills the spirit of music festivals, and those headz who flock to them. It was an honor to listen to the retired Berkeley professor wax on everything from literature to politics to mythology to Cuban coffee. It was even doper chilling with him and his daughter after the reading. Much love and respect goes out to this man's spirit and life's work. His daughter Tennessee Reed was also chillin, sharing pics from her IPhone. It was her first time in Miami. Ms. Reed recently publisher her first full length book. Apples definitely don't fall far from their trees. ]]> http://headzthenovel.com/blog/?feed=rss2&p=15 0