We start this party at EIGHT

Now, that longest night has come,
Apocalypse has passed,
Come days with increasing sun
And Christmas songs, at last!

I only do it one time each year
It's going to be fun, so come on down here!

Fighting the darkness at nine

Tonight's show tries to bring some light
Help spread a little cheer
Now it's Hanukkah's last night
So get you ass down here.

A seasonal affectation at nine

Tomorrow, I start lighting candles.
Tonight, I play songs young and old.
Today, I wore short sleeves and sandals.
Wait, you say winter gets *cold*?

A paean for a season at nine

Tomorrow's the first of December
Tomorrow is when rent is due
Tomorrow's a day that they say will be gray
But they said that of yesterday, too.

Tomorrow won't have any snowfall
It won't be all covered in white
So songs all about what we don't get down south
Is what I'm going to play you tonight.

Side helping with sides at nine.

I hope that everyone who does
Had a good Thanksgiving day.
Tonight, a couple generas
are what I'm of split-mind to play.

The first hour is some ancient blues
(Most about sex, oddly enough)
That pretend to sing of food.

The second hour's other stuff.

Offshore and online at nine

There's no foul and little harm
It may fulfill a need
As we move to a place that's warm
(And maybe has some weed).

With all this talk of secession,
I'll remind you of Jamaica.
(And, along that same progression,
Point out similar Anguilla.)

Like anybody knows this shit.
Jesus Christ...just Google it.

We'll debate the results at nine

And so...
It's hard for some to comprehend
Why some lost and some won
The long hard race is at an end
And just what has been done?
After eighteen months of this,
The pundits screamed and farted.
With both sides full of hate and piss,
WE'RE RIGHT BACK WHERE WE STARTED.

We'll keep it subtle at nine

In just four days, it's time to fight!
Something we'll think on tonight:
All those folks, left, mid, and right.

I'll reach into my back of tricks,
Throw at the wall the stuff that sticks
And play some songs on politics.

I'll play some tunes, one by one
And hopefully we'll have some fun.
Thank god, next week, it will be done!

Oh, Halloween pick-up!

Now, that the candy's all on sale,
Now, that the sun has gone,
It's time to dance and lash and wail!
Let's get our spooky on!

Last spooky set at nine.

It's less than a full week away...
I'm so excited, I could scream!
Each day closer, brings its decay
(I speak, of course, of Halloween).
After all this, we move forthwith
To events waiting on the sixth.

Remember how old the Velvet is at Nine

That six year anniversary
That happened yesterday
Will not have an effect on me
Or anything I play.
I've got a spoooooooky potpourri!
(Well, fun songs, anyway.)

A couple haiku

In thirty minutes
I am going to play music
About Halloween

I'm going to avoid
Any political stuff
Time for that later!

Some kind of vivisection at nine

I watched that horrible debate
And hoped there was a secret plan.
(Can you all say "eviscerate"?)
Tonight, let's see what makes the man.

My plans got screwed up by some rain (at nine)

"So how's your dad?"
Oh, can't complain.
(Hey, don't be sad;
He's out of pain.)
The jazz he had
Is what I'm playin'.

The great return at nine

Well, that happened. So it goes.
We try our best to understand
A meaning that nobody knows
In this small space, carved out for man.
As we all blindly stumble through
With our mere body, soul, and mind
The only thing I ask of you:
Is just stay safe, have fun, be kind.

Well THAT happend

Just a note on current events and events yet to come.

Carpe carpam et nona post meridiem

There was a convention. Yay!
A truly panoramic sight
Of comic fans and anime.
(You knew that's what I meant, right?)
So, that's cleared up! Tonight I play
Old jazz singers having a night.

No show

So here's the thing: there is a con
One that I completely forgot.
You want to play tonight? You're on!
(I need someone to fill my spot.)

Yes, I know, it's last minute.
That's just how it goes, isn't it?

A set at nine for the heliophile

Usually, this time of year,
Folk stay inside more oft than not.
Not that they're kept inside by fear
It's just that it's so awfully hot.
This year, where I now reside,
We're having a refreshing summer,
(Most likely caused by things denied
By those who've said things even dumber.)
And so I've looked and found a sum
Of jazzy songs about the sun.

No, it's not punk at nine.

There's a lot I want to say
About someone's little regime.
(I hate when assholes get their way.
It's upsetting, stupid, and mean.)
Instead, I'm going to dance and play.
I just might sleep, or even dream.

Something, something, at nine, something.

It's kind of like the feeling
Just before you stub your toe.
Or, maybe, when you forget the name
Of someone you should know.
You discover that your wallet
Is something you left at home.
It's before you flush the toilet,
But after you drop your phone.
I know there's something missing
But not sure what it could be.
Maybe I'd feel better
If you come dance with me.

Nostalgia for an alternate universe at nine

Long ago, there were some bands
Critics thought hot and current.
Tonight, we'll hear, from many lands,
A lot of groups that weren't.

A cooooool wave at nine.

Back again! My dedication
Brings me here to play for you.
(Add to that, our new location
Is looking pretty spiffy, too.)
So, after my little vacation,
Comes a mix: dance, swing, and blues.

no show

My dad is going into hospice.

No show tonight or the rest of the month.

Simmer down, now. At nine.

Well, decisions have been made
And people are now overwrought.
After both sides have been weighed,
I have to say, "Goddamn, it's hot!"

Most spiders are color-blind.

No gig tonight, for at Soundproof
They're celebrating LGBT.
Dox is gonna raise the roof!
Come down and join the revelry!

(Or at least come show some pride
Or support for those who care
For those whose rights have been denied
By smaller minds, still unaware.)

Soundtrack for an unmade Tarantino film, at 9.

Strum a guitar, pluck a cahpei,
Beat a drum or a sampho
I have some things I want to play
You might like it. You never know.

Since when is "anime" a musical genre?

Yes, last week I was away.
I went to a convention
That celebrated anime.
The show we did got a mention
In a local paper the next day.
With that in mind, and by extension,
I'm sure you can guess what I'll play.

no show

This coming weekend, of the first
Is one where I will be away.
(Now, after 4 years, you're well versed)
So if you're open, please do play!
(Don't think the Friday slot is cursed;
I've had fun there. Or so I say.)

Goofing off with my boss

Have I told you how I'll be out this week?

An early set, we start at EIGHT.

Next week's A-Kon. I'll be out
Goofing off with anime.
It's just one week you'll be without.
I shall return, or so they say.

A follow-up to follow along to at 9

We'll continue our jazz theme
Maht started tonight
I'll take over Velvet's stream
And play for your delight.

Clever for clever's sake at nine

Won or lost, the margin's thin.
To those that never play the game,
(Three, sadly, has no homonym)
For in the end, it's all the same.

I promise, no "Star Wars" music at nine

Christ almighty, it's May Forth.
This year is flying by, ya know.
(Yes, Jedi day, now known henceforth.
Here's how I feel about that. NO.)

Time at nine to flock to feathers

No matter the economy
No matter what the weather
I'm here for you; you're here for me
We're all in this together.

My dad's influence on me at nine

I'm packing an office tomorrow
More than twenty years of accumulation!
So many awards and books
But I've already packed the CDs
Tonight, I'll play some.

Spring Photo contest entry

I didn't enter to win, but I posted it because I thought it would be funny.

Money music at nine

I am running late
I had to rebuild my box
And.....other stuff, too

Some pagan thing at nine

First Sunday, post full moon,
After the first day of spring
Is how they say Easter attunes
To eggs, rabbits, and other things

An authentic life starts at nine.

Spring is already at hand
And summer's getting closer.
Tonight's show is about REAL bands
And not just some old poseur.

It's Spring! Hahahaha

This winter was one that was not
It wasn't just warm; it was hot
But there's a new thing
That we're calling spring
So we'll watch and see what it's got.

Green beer ban starts at nine.

Everyone's Irish on Saint Patrick's day
Strange genealogy found in ad-hoc.
Ask them who the PM is; what do they say?
(They don't! Enda Kenny's actually the Taoiseach.)

As for snakes and for shamrocks, I don't give a damn.
My grandfather marched as a proud Orangeman.

Hum along at nine. YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO.

Robert Sherman wrote songs that get stuck in your head
And now he can't do that because he is dead.

Some kind of wonderful at nine

A theme? What is that?
I don't have any idea
In the meantime--dance!

Many surprises at nine

I have no theme, and that's okay

After a long and tedious day

Why give that kind of hint away

For all the things I'm going to play?

Breaking news! Music at nine.

Oh internet! With each fresh scandal
You react instead of think
And light up, like a Roman candle,
And produce a horrid stink.
Maybe, you'll finally get a handle
On DC Comics and the Pink.
That stuff's such a horrid bore.
I'll play some music, then some more

We're cleaning out the garage at nine

This week was a royal pain
So I want some guitar
January's such a drain
Kiss this month au revoir!

Music at nine on four times five

There's music near where I live
And even some artists to whom I've
My well-earned money and time give
So I can go and watch them live.

Lazy haiku is lazy

this is last minute
work has changed my schedule
fell asleep on couch

Some kind of masquerade

Tonight is Twelfth Night, all's reversed
The poor act as if wealthy
Those who were blessed pretend they're cursed
And sickly men play healthy.
Sports fan now all take the field;
The pros sit up in bleachers.
Thieves listen to lies relieved
By apologetic preachers.
The master has become the slave
Servants enjoy their time
All the cowards are made brave
I'll play covers at nine.