ALONE IN THE CITY WITH YOU.

 

I remember you as a refrain so I return to you (again.)
The flowers, I tell you, have no buttons.
They name their virtues while the wind strikes them without anger.
Comes the twilight sound, deeps also and deeps.

In a dream, the teeth of the wolf finally let go of the wolf.
Only dark eyes can agree with dark hair—
I try to put myself, therefore, inside an apple!
The half-night, always in revolt, always hungering for hours.

I remember you as a refrain so I return to you (again.)
The flowers, I tell you, have dressed as paupers.
Only one sun in a month of silver rain and wool rain.
Faith as the sole of a shoe, the obscure melody of a false silence.

You become visible in the place where I disappear—
Someday, you will become the one, the unique circle.



I wrote this sonnet in response to the song posted above. Discographic info: The Limps, “Someone I Can Talk To” b/w “Unreal” A-side. [B-side features another band called “No Support.”] Matchbox Classics – M.C.2. Carlisle, England (1979). Likely personnel: Tom Davidson (vocals); Andy Semple (guitar); Norman Jardine (bass); and Derek Watson (drums). Compositional credit: unknown, likely credited to the band. Though recorded in England the band is Scottish.

Want something a bit less elegiac? SeeThe Fox Who Loved a Corgi

THE FOX WHO LOVED A CORGI.

(I am out of breath from running, oi.)

As many of you know, there is a fox who loves me, but here is yet another fox who had a week-long affair with a Welsh corgi. He can be seen, above, starting up with some Canadian geese. (What will be next, a Tasmanian Devil?) I say “affair” but I did not witness—and refuse to speculate on—any sultry activities. Imagine what you will, but I, myself, will not “go there.” I will say this: they palled around spectacularly, out there, in a semi-wooded region, closely, at dusk. The corgi had run away from her owner, not far mind you, but far enough.

I have theorized—and continue to believe—that the corgi had espied the fox from a distance (and vice-versa) possibly over several “tethered” walks and thought to herself, “Is that not a dog? Off the leash—permanently? He is scrawny but has cute fangs.” The well-groomed corgi came from a reputable home and here was the wild brute tempting her: a classic good girl / bad boy scenario. O, they bounded about, they paused thoughtfully in the greensward, they curled up in the shrubberies. They supped on prey (not kibbles ‘n’ rarebits) and they slurped from streams. I witnessed these moments as I jogged about and as I idled thoughtfully in the greensward, but I did not curl up in the shrubberies!

I have since spoken to the corgi’s owner, a small elderly woman who covered her mouth with one hand and giggled when I described ‘The Week of the Red Fox and the Welsh Corgi.’ She related a moment when she had to unhook the corgi’s leash, which had gotten snagged in a hedgerow, and, of a sudden, her beloved pet (planning this all along?) sprang forth and rabbited-off into the “wilds.” A fantastic week ensued in which the owner searched for the dog physically and virtually, the latter by posting to a listserv. During the day, the fox and corgi “laid low,” knowing that “the law” was out to find them. Which is probably why I encountered them at sunset, seeing as rescue efforts had been suspended for the day. As the woman detailed her “harrying” week, I looked down at the corgi, who nervously scanned the environs for her cross-species love. For those of you who know a Welsh corgi, you can easily envision a low dog, a somewhat jittery creature, a tan-and-white beast with a worried smile affixed to its panting muzzle. Eventually, a maintenance worker had tempted the corgi with some “kissy” noises and the repatriation process began, complete with a reward.

I believe this fox to be one of the kits who descended from the fox who loves me. If you watch the short video above, I have a sneaking suspicion that he’s the bloke at the end who came up to me while I sat—with permission, mind you—at the edge of the den. He is distinguished by his ragged tail, which does not have “the full brush.” I don’t see him very often but usually, when I do, he will sit not too far away from me and we will have the following conversation:

     Me: Oi, mate!
     Fox: […]
     Me: Oi!
     Fox: […]
     Me: Oi.
     Fox: […]

It’s a very nourishing exchange. In my heart of hearts, I doubt that the fox saw the corgi as “just another tawdry one-week stand” and vice-versa. I do believe they cared for one another. (What love!) And now, the “forces of propriety” have separated the two. You may be wondering if the corgi does long for the fox during the long days indoors and if the fox does pine for the corgi among the pine trees of its habitat? I think the answers are yes and yes. And while they could not have produced a “Red Forgi” or a “Welsh Corgox” they could have lived a furry, furry, amorous life of intrigue!



[At the request of the corgi’s owner, I am not publishing her name, the corgi’s name, or a photo of the dog.]

Need something a bit more serious? See Alone in the City with You

 

WHERE “ECHO FUTURISM” AND “POST-POETRY” COHERE: FANOPLANE’S IMPROVISATIONAL ALBUM, LIVE AT THE BLACK CAT! (2025)

 

The houses DOT DOT DOT !

Live Album Follows a Fabulous Night

It would have been enough just to take the stage at the legendary Washington, D.C. music venue, the Black Cat, on October 11, 2024, as the warm-up act for nationally-touring trio Xiu Xiu, which Fanoplane did, myself included. It would have been enough to receive a rowdy welcome from the evening’s young audience—three or four hundred deep—who encouraged us to pursue numerous soaring expressions during our set. I, for one, encountered a rare feeling of joy during the performance, and that, alone, would have been more than enough, except we made a recording of the show, entitled (what else?) Live at the Black Cat! Fanoplane released the record at another iconic Washington, D.C. music venue, Comet Ping Pong, a few months later in February, 2025.

I always alight upon jazz saxophonist John Coltrane as the bandleader who delivered the finest live recordings (at the Village Vanguard) but in fairness there are more candidates in jazz and other genres. Several factors can distinguish a live album, including the unpredictable heights of the musicianship as influenced by the setting, the obvious engagement of the concertgoers, or even an important social context. To my surprise, there exists another album with the same title as ours, save the exclamation mark. “Scream,” anyone? Said punk band released Live at the Black Cat in 1998. Unlike John Coltrane, Scream, and virtually any other musicians, however, Fanoplane does not rehearse any songs. We have no repertoire. We improvise everything. Now, I will not weigh Live at the Black Cat! against any other records, but I will try to build towards our “creative thesis” as a group. What makes us tick?

Gerry Mulligan agitates against “free jazz” (1962)

Complete Freedom Without Order

Speaking of jazz, a music critic by the name of Ralph Gleason hosted a nationally-televised show, Jazz Casual, in the 1960s. Running for several years and more than 30 episodes, the show presented many of the jazz greats in a format that blended performances and interviews. In 1962, “cool jazz” saxophonist Gerry Mulligan appeared on Jazz Casual, leading a quartet that played four songs. The brief clip (above) comes from the show’s interview segment. When asked about “freedom” in his music, Mulligan responded cautiously by saying that “attempts at […] complete freedom are chaotic” and that jazz is attractive, in part, because it is orderly. Mulligan concluded the thought by saying, “you can’t truly have freedom unless you’ve got order to begin with.” Hmmm. Hmph.

To be sure, Fanoplane is not a jazz band, but I have frequently returned to Mulligan’s statement about “freedom” and “order,” because it offers a compelling choice between two opposing mindsets: (1) Freedom within order or (2) Freedom without order. Pick a side! Mulligan was likely agitating against certain “currents” in jazz that began to take shape in the late 1950s, perhaps best epitomized by an important 1960 album—Free Jazz: A Collective Improvisation—by Ornette Coleman. Jazz of course began as an inherently improvisational form in New Orleans as championed by the incomparable Louis Armstrong, among others. Ornette’s improvisations may have sounded quite different than those pioneered by “Satchmo” but, in their own way, I believe they hearkened back to a similar principle.

Fanoplane at Comet Ping Pong in February 2025 (photo by Mike Zito) 

You could argue that all professional music has some order to it by virtue of the training, rehearsals, and performative experiences that the musicians have likely undergone. You could argue that the instruments themselves present a certain kind of order since they are physical entities that must be played competently enough to communicate with an audience. Indeed, we in Fanoplane observe certain customs whilst onstage, foremost among them, listening to each other. I am fond of saying that we are a cooperative, hence, we cooperate. Surely, this is a bit of structure. As are the stage, the lighting, the monitor, the green rooms, and the complimentary cans of grape soda and/or craft lager that have been very kindly placed in the very same green rooms, ahhh.

And yet, I would argue that Fanoplane otherwise presents “complete freedom without order.” Our album Live at the Black Cat! offers powerful evidence that the multivariable aspects of our performance could resonate with an audience that had no way of developing any advance expectations for the music they would hear. We often roll in a deep groove with powerful refrains but we have no idea, really, what will happen once the music begins. We are an improv group made up of eight bandmembers, each of whom improvises. I have taken the liberty to assemble the following phrases—“echo futurism” “noise bop” “post-poetry” “free punk” and “avant electrics”—which you could shake together in a paper bag for 30 minutes or so, and then, perhaps, you might approximate some sense of Fanoplane’s creative gestalt.

Have Yourself a Listen

Live at the Black Cat! (and all associated credits) can be found at Bandcamp, where it can be downloaded for “name your price.” You can also listen at Apple Music and Spotify. Any proceeds go to the “band fund” which helps us exist, promote, and create future ruckuses. The co-leaders of the group are Ted Zook and Bob Boilen; the rest of the bandmembers are Doug Kallmeyer, Jerry Busher, Patrick Whitehead, Brie Anderson, Maya Renfro, and myself. Check us out. You could start with Track 4 aka “The Houses…” which I am “mouthing” at the top of this post if you please or go in order. Either way, and in the words of the immortal Duke Ellington, we want you to know that we all love you maaaaadly.

Want more Fanoplane? Check out Praise Poem

Fanoplane at the Black Cat in October 2024 (photo by Mike Zito)