Headz the novel

KC GOES TO CAMP [BISCO] . .

J.J. Colagrande — Thu, 15 Jul 2010 16:18:14 +0000

I’m going to Camp. I’m going to Camp. And as a writer. A real paid writer. Can you believe it? It’s like Keith says, the universe delivers. Give and you shall receive. Dickie should see me now. I might not be making money like him and his annoying mother, but at least I’m living my dream and I’m not a momma’s boy. I’m telling you. Those who abandon their dreams will discourage you from achieving yours. So check this out. Someone I met at Oracledang contacted me. Some dude who bought my book. He read it, liked it, passed it on, and it made its way to some editor in Chicago who’s sending me to Camp as a music journalist ! ! Woot!! Woot!! Twenty-one, and a music journalist. Have you seen the lineup?? This is like the biggest of the baddest of the non-sell out bands. This ain’t no commercial festival like Bonnaroo or Coachella. This is it. Forget Michael Jackson, this is it. This is a dream come true. And speaking of dreamy, Keith is coming up too. I’m already here, but he’s going to fly up tomorrow and meet me. He had an audition so he couldn’t drive up from the shitty, but I’ll see him tomorrow. I’ll have the tent set up. I already went to Walmart in Amsterdam, near Mariaville, to pick up some things: bug spray, sunscreen, Gold Bond powder (it’s for Keith–I know he’ll forget), and a new fold-up chair, and of course ice, and fresh produce and stuff. I can’t wait. The line-up is sick. The magazine only wants a review of the festival, but I want to write about as many bands as I can. The line-up is just so sick.
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HEADZ: a literary journey covering music festivals and the contemporary counterculture

J.J. Colagrande — Sat, 25 Apr 2009 15:32:45 +0000

HEADZ is a work of Fiction. If you like music festivals, you’ll dig this. If you know someone who does, re-post, or buy the book. It’ll make a great present. Friend us on FB for info on contests, fresh content and reviews. Meanwhile, check out the website to enjoy 60 deleted scenes and bonus features CUT from the novel. See you on the road this summer . . .

TESTIMONIALS

J.J. Colagrande — Sat, 25 Apr 2009 15:02:46 +0000

CHECK OUT OUR TESTIMONIAL SECTION

These are some of the headz who have so kindly dropped in telling us what they think of the book. We are committed to keeping this independent grassroots spirit alive as we continue into the Spring and Summer. To learn more about the novel, click here. And help spread the word by re-posting this link on your Facebook.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE, INSPIRATION, AND KINDNESS

What an accomplishment!! Full of humor, insight, humility, heart and wit!!

Brendan, Hollywood, Florida

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Where did that writing style come from? So creative and brilliant! You’re a modern day Jack Kerouac! You took the reader on a ride to visit not-so-distant lands and alternate lifestyles and I loved it!

Janice, Northport, New York

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Headz is so good. I am reliving my own head trip across the country. This is a big hit.

Melanie, Miami, Florida

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I read Headz and thought it was entertaining. Now all I want to do is be at a festival again but summer has ended!! Thanks for this sincere tale of the scene! Keep on trucking.

Amanda, Lexington, Kentucky

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I read your novel and absolutely loved it! The characters are amazing and your writing style is truly great. Very enjoyable. Two thumbs up. Please keep writing.

Stephanie, Denver, Colorado

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“HEADZ” the novel just might inspire you to do something great. I couldn’t put it down.

Paul, Ft. Lauderdale, Florida

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The story has it all: friendship, Karma, love, and let’s not forget fun!! AMAZING work. You have a great way of capturing and informing about the scene!!

Julie, Oakland, California

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Anyone who knows which way the wind blows will love “Headz.”

Britton, Orlando, Florida

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I wasn’t sure how good a book I saw in a Facebook ad could be. I’m very glad I ordered it. The story was so awesome, and I totally connected with the characters as if they were people I knew. Can’t wait to hopefully read more from you!

Erin, Phoenix, Arizona

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I loved your book. I couldn’t put it down and read it in 2 days. I am impressed beyond words. Being able to write in so many distinct voices, what a talent. I’m looking forward to delving into the website and anticipating the movie (someday??)

Elizabeth, West Palm Beach, Florida

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Very nice! I read every word with time and thought, I now know your characters as if they are my friends, as if I was there. Thank You!

Erik, Los Angeles, California

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You are not just an excellent writer but an artist.

Tais, Barcelona, Spain

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If you’ve traveled around on Phish tour, Dead tour or any music festival tour. If you have gone from city to city selling goo balls, grilled cheese, or smoothies this a book you have got to read! Check out the website and order the book before you jump on tour this summer…

Nicoelle, Brooklyn, New York

ABOUT HEADZ THE NOVEL

J.J. Colagrande — Sat, 25 Apr 2009 14:41:24 +0000

A diverse cast of ten characters, living in New York, Miami, and San Francisco, make up the novel. In Headz, everyone comes together at a music festival in Chicago, where paths converge for a summer event none of the characters will soon forget, and a show few will get to see.

The book and website, although a work of fiction, depicts a wonderful world that over generations has been very real to hundreds of thousands of people. During the five years of composing and revising Headz, almost 60,000 words have been deleted. Many anecdotes did not fit into the narrative arc of the compact and crowded novel, but still feel relevant and entertaining. As a result, we created this website, dedicated to 58 deleted scenes, bonus features, and first person monologues. This is a story about music festivals, coming-of-age, love, and rebellion.

THE SECRET LIE

J.J. Colagrande — Fri, 24 Apr 2009 23:31:54 +0000

The American music festival is not what it seems—not even Shakedown Street. You can’t have light without shadow. You can say the ideal music festival would go down a certain way. I can say this place is all about peace signs and harmony and it’s all-good, but it’s a lie. There’s violence and poison and betrayal just like the country where we have these festies. And just like America some think they’re better than others. It’s all a lie. That kind of elitist attitude contradicts the vibe the festival allegedly puts out. The vibe of righteousness is self-righteousness in disguise. The vibe of being humble could be a Land of Ego; there are wolves in sheep’s clothing. There are hippiecrits. The peace and love and screw the system attitude for many is an excuse to be irresponsible. Look at Thelonious. Go ahead and Google Thelonious Horowitz. There’s nothing on the guy. He’s almost famous, not notorious. Who was he to disrupt the forces of The Show? What power did he have? There are many forces at work. Some might say magic. A natural mystic flowing in the air. When someone acts they must expect their actions to be held accountable. Still, this scene works. We can be young here. We can be ourselves. We can take it and make it ours. We’re all freaks here. I tried to explain this to the officer when they interviewed me about Thelonious. It’s a wacky Family we have here. Who gets along with everyone in the Family? Family is like a Mr. Goodbar, the chocolate is sweet but there are nuts too. So if an American music festival is lying when it gives off the vibe that everything is all-good—don’t blame the festival. It doesn’t know it’s lying. To most, this is just music. But it’s more than that, and like America, this place isn’t fair and it’s far from perfect.

SHORE MORRIS IS JUST ONE [highly opinionated] FICTIONAL CHARACTER IN HEADZ [and he is a little extreme, especially politically] CLICK HERE TO READ THELONIOUS’ DESCRIPTION OF A MUSIC FESTIVAL

THE ECONONY OF THE SHOW

J.J. Colagrande — Fri, 24 Apr 2009 13:34:30 +0000

An economy feeding on ganja gooballs has no need for Alan Greenspan. Besides, the unemployment rate at The Show’s a remarkable zero. There’s work. Not for the sixty thousand plus from the area. They’re the custies. The twenty thousand heads who’ve dropped down on Chicago are the ones working. We work three kinds of industries: hospitality, selling food and drink; retail, kicking clothes and accessories; and entertainment, slinging drugs. You can trade for almost anything at a music festival. Three burritos and a coke for a glass pouch. Fifty valiums for a dress. A dejembe drum for a quarter sack of dank weed. Of course cash is accepted. The music fest isn’t a commune or rainbow gathering or Oregon barter fair. Headz need money to buy gas to get to the next festival and to throw down on a hotel room. Anything sold or traded at a music festival is done so at a wholesale level compared to the product’s value outside of The Lot. Geri sells apron shirts for sixty at The Show, she could get eighty online. Melody sells chillum pipes for forty at a music fest, off The Lot she could easily nab sixty. Listen to this. One summer I left New York with nothing. I caught a ride to a music festival, hooked up a kicked-down miracle, then ground-scored a gram of black-tar opium. I flipped the black-tar and bought twenty Beavis and Butthead doses. I flipped them and had money for gas and a hodie to get to the next city. Prior to the next music fest, at the supermarket, I invested the remaining money on cheese and bread. I borrowed a hot plate, generator, and frying pan, and sold one-hundred grilled cheese sandwiches at two-dollars-a-pop. I bought a ticket to The Show, weed for my glass pipe, and a sheet of acid to which I flipped ten-strips for thirty-five all day long. After ten fests along the eastern seaboard I returned to New York decked out in a new wardrobe of headie gear with an ounce of chronic, two bubblers, and enough money to pay six months rent. My boys back home, the deejays in my band; they could never understand how I could leave with nothing, party in ten cities, and return home loaded. Check it: you may not like how all this sounds, but it’s the truth. I’m just reporting the facts here, cubbie. We’re young and we want to rage and for the party to rock the drug dealing needs to get done. Someone has to do it. Then we can relax like party people in the house till the break-a break-a dawn.

REMEMBER THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION!! all these characters are in the novel Headz over there and up a little —->

CLICK HERE TO LEARN ABOUT THELONIOUS, ONE OF OUR CENTRAL CHARACTERS

TEFLON & HIS MOM’S FAMILY

J.J. Colagrande — Fri, 24 Apr 2009 04:37:59 +0000

Her name was Viviana Glass, my moms. She was born in Chicago, you know, raised in Oak Park, south of the city. My grandmother, Rosa Maria Contros, is Chilean. To this day she designs costumes for the lively Chicago theatre community. Poor Gammy, she outlived her daughter, must be the worst joke God ever bestowed on a soul. My granddad, my Grady, Ernie Glass, he was half-French-American and half-Cherokee Indian. Grady was a thespian at heart too, a lover of the Marx brothers, and later, Martin and Lewis. He worked for the postal service in Chicago. Guess he needed a little comedy after years of dropping off solicitations, bills, Dear John letters, and those we-regret-to-inform-you official United States Vietnam telegrams. Grady had a tattoo of Hermes on his arm. I remember he always said: now junior, don’t-kill-the-messenger. It was his favorite expression, especially when he’d have to tell me the Bulls lost. I always loved the Bulls, especially and secretly when Byron Jones played for the Pistons. Anyway, Grady hit the lotto in 74’, one of the first Illinois State drawings. He started this theatre company in Chicago—St. Marx Place—it specialized in musical comedies. Year after year losses outweighed profits, but my Grady loved the business and felt okay with taking a financial hit. He died a few years before my moms took her life, having spent most of his ducats on the fledgling theatre. To honor him, Gammy established the Ernest Glass Award for Playwrights, a grant given annually to Northwestern theatre majors. Do you see where my moms got the acting bug? My family hails from Chicago. My mom’s spirit rests in Chicago, so does my Grady’s. That’s why, after peeping out the hospital, I’m heading out to Oak Park to see my Gammy. She’s my Family. It’s all about Family. That Keith kid’s cool but he’s not my Family. And if I had to choose between my Gammy and that Melody Rain girl, who disappeared anyway, I’m going to choose Gammy. Gammy always took care of me, word up. And I think my boy Thelonious, I think today he’d want me to be around some Family. He always said it’s all about Family.

click here to learn about Teflon’s mother and father

MIKEY THE TAPER STRIKES BACK

J.J. Colagrande — Fri, 24 Apr 2009 03:38:16 +0000

There’s nothing wrong with the taper sections. In the taper pits I get to sit around with old friends, people I’ve known for years. We catch up in the taper pits, talk about gear. We have a unique understanding of the sound, man. Us tapers can talk about the tiniest moments from festivals past. We know everything. But let me tell you something. Front of the board is always going to have a more direct sound with less reverberation. If I think I can get a better DAT recording—I’m going to sneak front of the soundboard and set up shop. It’s all about the sound, man. Non-tapers think I’m a little anal. I don’t think I’m anal, man. This is technology. I’ve seen how many music festivals and spent how many hours cataloging? We’re cool. We made this scene. We spread the music. And now the bands have started to offer digital downloads direct from their own soundboard for a cost. Basically tapers are obsolete. Why go through all the trouble and cost of taping a music fest when you can download the same quality with the click of a button for a lesser cost. That’s why us tapers have to take it to a new level. Now we video record the music festivals and patch the video together with the digital sound from our DAT players. We have like three different heads filming from three different angles and later we edit the Show and everything. We’ll deliver the music festival right into your living room. It’s all for the headz. No one’s making money on any of this. That’s what it’s always been about for the tapers. It’s always been about the headz. We have to keep it going and we will because we made this scene. We made the scene.

REMEMBER THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION and these characters are in the novel Headz, over there and up a little –>

CLICK HERE TO LEARN ABOUT THE ECONOMY OF THE SHOW

KEITH S.A.K.E. FEST DAY ONE

J.J. Colagrande — Fri, 24 Apr 2009 01:54:27 +0000

Years ago, to celebrate our anniversary, I threw a three-day party for Sky. Only two people were invited, us. I called it the S.A.K.E.—Sky And Keith Everlasting—festival. Even made up a flyer. I mailed it to her and everything. The first day of S.A.K.E. was all about Henna. You know Henna has the power to protect, that’s why it’s used in Far East weddings. For supplies I went to the New Bizarre Indian Grocery Store on Polk. Found everything I needed, including henna leaves. I took the dried out henna leaves, sprinkled them with a bit of vegetable oil, and then with a coffee grinder I shredded it into a powder. The powder needed to be sifted until very fine. So I stretched out a nylon cloth and secured the nylon with a rubber band around a cleaned out Ragu jar. Then I sprinkled the henna powder on the nylon and with a spoon I pushed it through into the jar. There were debris on the nylon, fine twigs and what not. I got rid of all that. In a bowl I stirred three teaspoons of the sifted henna powder, one teaspoon of eucalyptus oil, and three tablespoons of the blackest black tea I could make. Twenty hours later I had the paste in time for S.A.K.E. We rubbed each other’s bodies in eucalyptus oil then went to work. After the henna set we periodically dabbed the designs with a mixture of lemon juice and sugar. Citric acid in the lemon juice helps the henna seep into the skin and the sugar acts as a glaze. The rubbing of the eucalyptus oil was a part of the henna process but it was also really arousing in its own right, for both of us, but there was not to be any sex, no sex until the last day of the festival.

If you like this, check out Sky’s version of the rest of their festival

SKY’S TRIP TO THE MUSEUM WITH KEITH

J.J. Colagrande — Thu, 23 Apr 2009 21:36:14 +0000

Keith and I were at the Legion of Honor museum. We were standing in the Rodin hall in front of The Mighty Hand. That statue says it all. It’s totally gripping. The tensions in every finger. The flex of every fiber of the hand. On one level it’s like the hand is trying so hard to hold on. With every ounce of energy the hand tries to hold on. On another level the hand tries so hard to grasp. Like it wants a piece of something. What is life if not the constant struggle to hold on versus the desire to grasp? The Mighty Hand does both. I remember Keith and I were talking about maintaining what you have, security, health, whatever it is, versus wanting what you think you need or should have, love, materials, success. This was back in the day. And then our hands fit into each other’s, with no tension at all, a complete fit, like two pieces of jigsaw destined to click together no matter how many times the game was played.

If you enjoyed this, check out Melody reveal how she met Sky in Berkeley

THELONIOUS INTERVIEWS MELODY RAIN

J.J. Colagrande — Thu, 23 Apr 2009 04:05:29 +0000

Are you having fun?

Yeah, I’m having fun. Sky’s bringing me down a little.

What do you think of Chi-town?

Chicago’s hella cool. I like the way the breeze rolls off the lake…

What drugs are you on?

Man, I don’t even know. We we’re on Adderall then we got them OC’s from you…we must-a puffed like ten bowls…I sniffed a bunch of Molly along the way…I-FEEE-L-GOO—you knew that I would now…

No H?

Nah, none of that…

Have you tried heroin before?

Maybe.

When was the first time?

With Fraggle. Top of the Haight.

Who’s Fraggle?

Fraggle’s this kid from Santa Cruz I used to hang out with.

Where’s Fraggle now?

Dead—

How old are you?

You and me are the same age, remember? Twenty.

Do you know a lot of people that have died?

I know a couple…doesn’t everyone. Listen—why you asking me all these morbid questions. I don’t want to talk about Fraggle, kay? You’re bringing my head down…all right?

It’s kewl, ese. I can go back to the stock questions.

Do that.

Fine—was it raining the day you were born?

My ma said it was raining, that’s the story she tells me. A rainy day in the Bay Area—go figure!

Do you love your mother?

I love my ma! Sure—

What about your dad?

Never met him. I don’t have a dad—I have two moms.

Melody…what are you scared of?

What happened to the easy questions [pause] I’m scared of being alone.

Why?

I don’t know.

Yes, you do?

Because…because I don’t trust myself.

What’s really troubling you, Melody?

[Exasperated] The only trouble I have—right now—is that I have to baby sit a girl I’m not feeling.

So why don’t you let Keith have Sky and then you can get with Teflon?

Nah, no way…

Why not?

Just cause, Thelonious.

I think you left me in that warehouse and robbed me, probably with that Fraggle guy.

That’s absurd. Where did that come from?

I think you have a problem with drugs, specifically heroin.

This is a music fest and everyone’s using—

Yeah, but not everyone’s using heroin.

LISTEN—music fests are about getting fucked up and having a good time—I don’t want to hear anything…especially from you, Thelonious…don’t be a hippiecrit…

So, no problem with the H-bomb?

Shut up, Thelonious—you know what—this interview’s over…

THELONIOUS INTERVIEWS GERI ABOUT SEWING

J.J. Colagrande — Thu, 23 Apr 2009 03:49:38 +0000

Geri loves to sew—shortie’s always sewing. Tell me, sista—who taught you?

Before I came to sewing I first started crocheting, back in the day, before I met Curtis. I was like fourteen, living in Hialeah with mi familia. My Nana taught me.

And you dug it like what?

I dug it and it came to me naturally. What really hooked me—this might sound sadistic but I don’t care—was the time my mother’s boyfriend sat on my needle. He was a real dick, he treated my mom like shit, you know, it was so obvious to me how he used her. He was cheap, real cheap. Never springing for a dime. He didn’t even work, a lazy Puerto Rican—see I’m Cuban, we work. I’ve outgrown my prejudices against Puerto Ricans. He was just a puto. Anyway, one day, by accident he sat on my needle and it went like two inches into his butt. He had to go to Jackson Memorial and everything. I knew he was a tight ass, but, you know, however unintentional, to me it was a sign that the powers that be were trying to crochet his cheap ass butt cheeks shut. I’ve been sewing ever since.

That’s an ill story, Geri.

Yeah, since then I’ve been a member of the Crochet Guild of America. CGOA for life, baby.

You must be good at crochet.

Mostly, as of late, I only crochet tams and scarves. Mainly I’ve been sewing a lot of patchwork.

Patchwork is dope. That’s the real headie Shiite. What materials do you use?

When I make pants and apron top shirts they’re always funky with random materials. But my trademark, as you should know, Thelonious, is the patchwork I do with the kid’s bed sheets.

That’s your niche, no doubt. I was trying to get to the kids bed sheets. Your patchwork could be on display at the Googleheim or sold at Art Basel or something. It’s that good.

Thank you, papi. That’s very sweet of you. You know, it takes me back to my childhood to do patchwork, especially with say Raggedy Ann bed sheets, or My Little Pony. I used to sleep on a pair when I was a kid. And the boys, when the boys see an Aqua-man graphic on a fat headie glass pouch they go nuts. Know what I mean?

I used to have the Justice League of America bed sheets. Pop culture superhero cartoon stuff is dope. You can be a poor gal from Dallas or a prep school chick from Seattle and you’re gonna know and love My Little Pony.

Totally. No one can take it away from us. I go out of my way searching thrift shops, vintage shops, E-bay, anywhere, to find the old bed sheets I use for my patchwork.

Yo—I think you’re the bomb, girl, but on the real, what’s the number one reason why you sew?

I crochet and sew because it’s relaxing. It’s hard to explain but when I’m working it’s like I’m suspended from space and time. I’m in a zone. Like I’m pure energy. Like I’m connected to The Flow. Like you and music.

Yo—you belong in Kali with all that connected to the flow Shiite.

[laughing]

Tell it to the judge, sista-love, but I’ll miss you too, baby.

if you like this, check out Thelonious interview Melody Rain

MELODY RAIN TALKS ABOUT MEETING SKY

J.J. Colagrande — Thu, 23 Apr 2009 02:14:18 +0000

I live in Berkeley Hills with my mom. My mom’s girlfriend lives there too. I’ll move out soon. I only need six more Natural Science credits to get an AA degree in Liberal Arts from Vista Community College. I don’t have to tell you anything, but just cause, this time I will. So it was finals week, spring semester. Sometimes I sit in the Irie Café re-reading a section from my Botany notebook. The memorization hella kills me. Then I seen Sky walk in. She’d entered wearing a long skirt and an apron top half-shirt. Her Osaris tattoo was in clear view on her lower back and the colored Ganesha tat on her shoulder was kind-a hidden by the straps of the shirt. She wore this Rasta tam and a few of her skinny dreads dangled out of the hat. She was totally a hottie. Nibbling on my favorite sandwich, the one with feta, avocado, green olive tapenade, and rocket leaves, I noticed Sky the second she walked in. When that Bobo blood clot started getting all crazy on Sky I stepped right in. I couldn’t help it. I wanted her. And I get what I want.

THELONIOUS EXPLAINS THE SHOW

J.J. Colagrande — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 16:28:33 +0000

It’s dope. Everyone bouncing around the room. Everyone running out-of-control, like antelopes. Getting down on the get down. I hate having to explain it. The music’s all sorts of sorts of music too. Don’t make me put a label on it. Besides, music festivals are so much more than the music. It’s the journey it takes getting to the music fest. It’s the parking lot outside the music fest. The parking lot is like a Mecca, the ends to a pilgrimage. It’s our holy place, our Zion, our home. Rainbow style, son. By the time we get inside the music festival our heads are in a different place. It’s the couple of hours in the parking lot that really matter. That’s where the real story lies. I totally hate having to explain it, even to Teflon. It’s like you’re on the bus or you’re off the bus, but no matter what, this thing is continuing, whether you like it or not.

REMEMBER THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION!!!

THESE ARE BONUS FEATURES TO THE NOVEL AVAILABLE AT THIS SITE!!

click here to learn about Mikey’s adventures in the taper pits

click here to read about Keith and how he took a liking to crystals

KC EXPLAINS HOW SHE MET DICKIE (BROOKLYNESE VERSION)

J.J. Colagrande — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 16:27:35 +0000

Of all the rowmantic places for young loveaz to meet in New Yawk: the fifth flaw of the Whitknee like as soon as the ellavada opens, or buy-da win chimes of Sockrateez Paawk in Long Eyeland City, or the LOVE peece in the PRATT statchu garden—our fateful encounta took place at Pathmaawk; eyeill tree, in front of the canned goods, buy-da green beans, to be precise. Two random caawts hurled against each odda in the third eyeill of the supamaawket; the third eyeill, evokin the trinity, it couldn’t be happenstance; it hadda be fate. Dat’s what I thought the first night afta our meetin, five yeers ago allredee, the night I wondered if heed call. He wuz the first boy I eva gave my numba to. I wuzza virgin at faawteen—Dickie tree yeers my seen-ya. Back den I wore a tiny gold cross round my neck. In five yeers my neck accessaries have been true quite a mettamorefasis, a tiny gold cross, to a spiked ledder colla, to a hemp twine with a glass tiadrop, to nutin, which is what I’ve worn fore-a good yeer, nutin.

click here to hear about Sky’s background