August 5th, 2004
Hello!? SKA PIPOL! POSTED AT 05:48 AM as a stickied post
ska ska ska gigs... alam ko namang wala kang gagawin e...
Steady Edy Productions (May 12 2006, Friday) Steady Movin Beat, Tristeza, bulb, Irie Eye, spaceboys, nick capital, goodleaf, umble uno, dreadknot used, pepe, beer nuts, transistory form 50P for the gate, comes with a free drink! ==================================================
Clubska Manila presents : The 3rd Anniversary of SKAMAX !!! ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Test-drive Your Keen Edge in the Syncopation Track. Its been three years since the counterpoint rhythm rebels started this musical treat !! ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Playbands : Shuffle Union Steadymovinbeat Hopskatch Umble Uno and more ! +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 13th May,Saturday 9PM till late! Freedom Bar Anonas St. (near Aurora Blvd.)Cubao, Q.C. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ PLUS the best and the rarest music and videos of THE music from the booth! ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ !!!This is where the floor truly SYNCOPATES !!!
The Late "Hana and the Skantateros"
Mentors namen! Shuffle Union at H and J
Reading: 2-tone history! hehehehe.. joke lang.. Listening to: Friday Night, Saturday morning by Feeling: dizzily skanking 6 Boot on me Face!
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June 6th, 2006
hey hey hey! POSTED AT 01:05 PM Quitting my job sure have its own advantages, a colorful 70% fun i must say, though the evil mint's exiguous, and hard, as well as boredom's an endless death on weekdays, making me spread thrash text messages to my mates. Now, my summer is an outing frustrated season, a bit splashless, but not completely chlorine devoid, since my mates and me had our share of Suva's genital souped, spawning pool. It's a stubborn, oldschool resort in Antipolo without any interest on updating their concept that still stood unchanged and worn-out since gabby concepcion's heyday. It was a pre-summer dip from Hannah Margarita's(she's our former vocalist) generous birthday blow-out. Unfortunately neither of us enjoyed the pool. Fun slipped in only because the water's 10 feet deep, which is fun and drowning, then the diving board's bouncy, and sturdy, rising as high as a 2 storey building. Disappointment piled up when we got to their horrid shower rooms that looked like someone hung themselves from it's ceilings, or had their wrists slit beside the rust, shit, mucus stained tile walls.( With the exception of the gloomy Sunday song.) It's one genuine, grotesque suicidal spot, fuck! The odor's so foul, and the murky floor's vulnerable to the risk of human shit-mines, i could not stand changing my clothes there alone or to take a shower even if im just half naked. Hannah even had the freaky luck of meeting a bloody sanitary napkin, left by a hurried harlot, fresh from menstrual goodness, and as if screaming horribly from the foul floor tiles. Then the pool's chlorine is washed up, leaving the water dead and suitable for the mean local orcs that swam with us. Minutes we spent on swimming can be finger counted, when we discovered the meaning of content and thus concluded on smoking sticks, and preying on the veggie meats Hannah brought along the trip, were almost like that the whole afternoon. The resort's canteen was literally a mess hall, you would be tempted to call Imbestigador or Mon Tulfo to raid their corners. And what spunk the place had! Marketing their sticks for 50P a pack, which is crap. They're cigars are gold probably. Now the rows of gig opportunities, that my band, steady movin beat gets, as well as the good time i roll with my good ol'e mates wonderfully reversed this ill-fated, jobless summer of mine, making up well for the poor consequences of my corporate sepuku. The splendid event's, and the number of attendees struck a positive air between the patrons and the bands, the amiable bond created rendered us to play better and beyond our usual set. Although on some gigs were too drunk and lame to play coherently, and because greenvine's sound system policies are crappy. But we got our revenge last 26th of may when on our greenvine kick off, we've split their improvised stage in half while skanking. Umble Uno, and Eddy made it even worse on their set. Salute also goes to this altruistic production, who never regret to line us up, and thus, make us regulars within their circle. Greenvine bar had been our dislocation dance station for the two summer months. And on enduring they're lack of cooperation, and their obvious greed forced our current scene to shift to another venue which was held at caliente bar last Friday, it's under "Steady Eddy's" production, which i favorably mentioned in the latter. And there are great bands too! So if you ain't got nothing to do this Friday night, feel free to pass by and check the bands especially "Goodleaf" its a reggae/dub flag band of the production, and one of my favorites, the "Balloon derby" which dishes some mellow, mod swinging tunes. Be a night straggler, it's gonna be a Friday night Saturday morning! There are random productions and invites as well, which were also cool, one of them gave us a bottle of jack daniels which is sweet and tasty (twa's my first time to drink one), but can give you a nasty hang-over the next morning. The tide is high and is with us, since steady movin beat managed to survive and break loose on each event, though were currently bum and broke. Nonetheless there's just so much fun, and we just don't care at all, cause its so fun, fun, fun, fun, fun.... Reading: battle of borodino Listening to: starship - sara Feeling: hopin |
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June 4th, 2006
if only... POSTED AT 12:12 PM sun burnt weekdays are a sure supplement to our pugon like apartment, the shelling which makes my bummed afternoons a steamy hell. the fan's useless it would be better off as a hair blower for momma's morning. good thing the rain's starting to rinse down edsa's filth, though the earthly scent's seasoned with more, but a rather ancient kind of filth, irritating because the rain takes about 30 mins for it's cool breeze to take over the pms like feeling. at such moments, bum me after spinning all the audio cd's and bed stressing, would try to take vanity by scurrying up the roof top. but most of the time i'd just hum and banshee laugh, watching the nutty juvenile orcs breast stroke in the flood, and refresh themselves with roof water, induced with the special participation of cat shit. just like the good old days i would whisper. and with disgust, shudder at the thought of me with the same shit defying act when i was 5. well, the taste ain't that bad.. it's rather interesting! haha! tomorrow, after 2 months of re-strengthening my spunk, i'd be off again in a conquest to take on one of ortiga's fortresses, praying that their said impregnable walls will collapse before me and that my siege machines wouldn't be halted by a petty, or fierce opposition. emerald ave. would be the battlefield, about 5 fortress in prospect, and one's enough. all with enough milk and honey, but not all with a strategic position. i wish sennacherib would visit me in a dream. o tactics! o! o heck! anyway i still have makati. though it's a days march. renege not! o soul! hahaha! damn im crazy... earth ramps considered! Reading: tiglath pileser's annals Listening to: the specials Feeling: visionary |
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June 3rd, 2006
aaw... POSTED AT 10:56 AM Do you really want to hurt me this song really puts alot on reminding me how foul i've been doin on my relationships after donna... hehe.. the lyrics do speak to me as a conscience and as a testimony every night and on my daily solitary confinements... precisely the sentences that my past relationships can utter to me... sad though... never thought that my words on our break up will be fulfilled as a stupid prophecy... tsk.. got to move on... or else..... and yeah.. the song's cool im trying to convince my bandmates to do a rocksteady or reggae cover of it... since the bass line is as steady as the real jamaican thing... they think im gay... as gay as boy george... though gender bending's cool sometimes... hahaha!
Reading: jewish history by josephus... Listening to: do you really want to hurt me... Feeling: melancholia! |
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May 6th, 2006
... POSTED AT 04:39 PM You may be clueless, but i've underestimated you. I've allied to your ideas of life and love that might be too unpretentious, though i must admit that a part of me loved it. Your innocence had been a powerful agent to bring me down my knees, and to light a fire warm enough to shelter us on our cold, lunatic dwelling. Enough to give us mirages of our romance. Enough to hide the fact that we were molded by illusions and dreams. But my gender's hideous instinct stung my egoistic wisdom, they've formed a coalition to prove you wrong, and to put an end to this reverie. Conspiracies after conspiracies were secretly born. And I've never found myself wrong, nor did it dawn to me that i'd be a murderer. I've come up with theories and strategies, on how my wits can outrun you in this lovely, convoluted maze that we've created. My realization is raw but futile, for i know that this scheme was of my own fault. I was setting fire on myself. Our cage, which I've constructed, is deeply rooted and inspired by my foolish visions of fidelity, and undying bliss. Each day, you've tried staying within our enchanted domain, while i tried to race you out. You're lovely on picking roses around the walls, tidying every corner, chasing me around, and complementing on how the roses react to our spirit. I was corrupted by then, but my sanity was still trying to get out of the coalition, i tried defending you through their prejudice. One fateful day, we've managed to talk. I've never found you to be on my side. But i was wrong. As soon as i was a victor and a traitor over the coalition, i found you already a victim, your eyes, your thoughts are all wounded and open, a grieving recipient of my ideas. That time you were so considerable, a victim of my war's aftershock, you were there hidden, silently listening to our arguments, concealed on observing my war over the coalition. I've made history and from that you've been forced to learn eagerly, the knowledge was austere and it made you wept, our truth is indeed agonizing. And then i hurriedly tried to win you back, assuring questions and plans to rebuild, to reconcile. Then you had your say, your opinions are plain and redundant, but were filled with pessimistic meanings and it deflected my chances of aiding you back. I cant bring you back from the dead, i can only honor you now with respect, gratitude, and understanding. History is fond of repetitions. This time i had my part by killing a saint. And as soon as you're dead your face and your martyr story found its way to the hallways, to monuments, to establishments, to my books, to my letters, to my words, to my heart. My offensive had struck me back, down with a force twice the strength that i've pulled out. And all that i can do now is to remember and pray for you. Saint of my heart. |
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May 6th, 2006
drama POSTED AT 04:37 PM Steady movin beat's still dancing its way to giving ska jerks, as well as normals a good time.. but what i really don't know for sure, that is, if we'll make our compositions speak for our repertoire. First, I am having a bad deal of upheavals as to what specific branch of ska, the band should be subordinated. Its either due to my inferiority disorder, or with how i lack motivation. And as im not aware of my mates being sensitive about this, i have my own impression that our originals are being trapped between two formidable branches of our genre. Overcoming my disorders, my other clutters, as well as my personal demons, are as of the moment, crucial under my lines of operation. Second is the way our disadvantages are dragging us slow. These are minors i may say. Our mood, which leaves an intricate setting with the way we get along to create, or perform our songs, cover or original. Our schedules and distances, which are not strategic, most especially with the height the oil price fucking hikes everyday. One thing's for sure, that we'll each find a better way out of this, step by step, this way or the other Or we might just be too irritated with this steamy summer, it makes us or me crazy to post dramas like these. Shit, everyday is like being fan fried, or oven baked. Reading: atlas of the holy land Listening to: simoon by tokyo ska paradise |
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