SteveCastellano.com

I got it into my head that I wanted to dig up an old MIDI file that I had created back in the Atari days, for reasons that escape me now. After deciding that hooking up the Atari itself could only lead to disappointment, I tracked down a freeware Windows app called Gemulator, dusted off the original Atari ST diskette, jammed it into a Toshiba USB floppy drive that almost got thrown out in November when we were cleaning out the spare room, connected said floppy drive to an Intel MacBook running XP via Parallels, installed and launched Gemulator, and, as the French say, viola. Of the music I heard when I successfully imported the original Notator files into Logic, I can only say “not so good.” But the exercise itself just goes to show… something, I guess.

In the infinite immutable wisdom of millenia upon millenia the human body decided that an appropriate response to hostile viral takeover is to clog all available breathing passages with goo. It’s a good thing buildings don’t evolve, because if they did whenever there was a fire they’d automatically lock all the exits and cut the power. Happy birthday and thanks for nothing Darwin, you bearded freak.

Mike Silverman, a.k.a. That 1 Guy, croaked, slapped, stomped, bowed, looped, laughed and howled his way through a bafflingly under-attended set at the Rivoli last night. Accompanying himself on the Magic Pipe – an electrified 2-string proto-bass cyborg made of articulated piping, sample and loop triggers and a valve that spews smoke when things get really exciting – as well as musical saw and talking boot, T1G treated the somewhat subdued audience to his unique outsider-funk stream-of-consciousness poetry, opening with some remarkably contrabass-like arco work that exploded into the Beefheart/Zappa/Waitsenescent “Weasel Pot Pie”, and continuing on a raucous foot-stomping journey through favourites from his CDs Songs in the Key of Beotch and The Moon is Disgusting and closing with his iconic breakout single “One.” Aside from his obvious rhythmic, musical and lyrical talents, T1G manages to merge digital with electro-acoustic without letting anyone get hung up on the technology. While many contemporary performers wrap themselves in their own loops as if weaving incantations, Silverman’s show is a more organic construction – one tends to focus more on his wide-eyed expressions and the blur of his hands while the arrangements seem to build of their own accord, eventually engulfing the tunes unexpectedly as if in an aural backdraft. It’s a sure sign of a soul-deadening recession or a truly random universe (maybe both) when a show this polished and energetic doesn’t even garner an encore. But a remarkably polite and grateful post-show T1G signed CDs with a toothy grin, already planning to return later this summer.