Daily Loaf

Routes Music is a documentary film acting as a roving music census, taking in the true musical passions (and disgusts) of the American people. We’re traveling all across the country, stopping along the way to interview local bands, take footage of live performances and chat with anyone and everyone. Learn more about the documentary here; check out all previous entries here.

As we approached Phoenix, the Routes Music crew heard news reports about a cold front that was bringing high winds into the desert and creating a mighty dust storm as a result. But not until we stepped out of the car in Tempe did we really see what the newscasters meant.

From the west, a faint haze grew darker and darker as it approached. The dust storm was roaring across the desert like a scene out of The Mummy.

But the desert sands weren’t the only thing in disarray: Phil and Terrence were having problems of their own.

The previous night, they’d driven 16 hours straight through the ever-changing terrain of Texas and New Mexico. At one point, border patrol stopped the van to check for illegal immigrants. (“Really?” Phil still comments whenever the subject’s brought up. “I could maybe understand if we were headed to Mexico, but in the middle of this country?”) Read the rest of this entry »

Routes Music is a documentary film acting as a roving music census, taking in the true musical passions (and disgusts) of the American people. We’re traveling all across the country, stopping along the way to interview local bands, take footage of live performances and chat with anyone and everyone. Learn more about the documentary here; check out all previous entries here.

The first thing we noticed on Austin’s infamous Sixth Street was the preponderance of clubs. Not the live music that Austin is known for, but booming bass beckoning babes in short skirts (and the dudes chasing them). Roads blocked off … police bored and leering … drunk college kids swaying from one sidewalk to another … a street musician, here or there, drowned out by the latest pop hits.

To find some music that wasn’t prerecorded, the Routes Music crew had to drive across town to locally-owned and operated Violins Etc., a full service string shop.

Inside, we were greeted by hundreds of violins – some brand new and ready for sale, others in various states of disrepair – as well as the employees who fixed them.
Read the rest of this entry »

Routes Music is a documentary film acting as a roving music census, taking in the true musical passions (and disgusts) of the American people. We’re traveling all across the country, stopping along the way to interview local bands, take footage of live performances and chat with anyone and everyone. Learn more about the documentary here; check out all previous entries here.

Refreshed and well-fed after another night’s stay at a Hampton Inn (thanks Routes Music friends!), we dashed out of the desert sand of Indio, which was quickly becoming a snowbird party scene. Past windmills and through a raging wildfire, the Gray Box cruised the mean palm-tree-lined interstates of Los Angeles. Tonight, we’re in Malibu for our first interview on the Pacific Coast — literally 20 feet from lapping waves. It’s a nice, quiet beach community here, and we aim to keep it nice and quiet.

Oh yes, about those wildfires — you can watch the video after the jump:

Read the rest of this entry »

Routes Music is a documentary film acting as a roving music census, taking in the true musical passions (and disgusts) of the American people. We’re traveling all across the country, stopping along the way to interview local bands, take footage of live performances and chat with anyone and everyone. Learn more about the documentary here; check out all previous entries here.

“Where eeez yer pipe?”

A 6’4 security guard towered over me, glaring.

“Where eeez yer pipe?” he repeated in a thick Islands accent.

“What?” I replied, not sure he really just asked me what I think he just asked me.

“Where eeez yer pipe?” he asked again.

“My what?” I said again, still shocked.

“Yer pipe. Yer pipe.”

Now he was aggravated. I’m enjoying feigning ignorance.

“I don’t know what you’re saying, man.”

The guard switches tactics.

“Drugs?”

I smile.

“No, no drugs.”

“OK, go ahead.”

So began my very first experience at an extended-day music festival, and only my second time ever seeing the seminal jam band, Phish. Luckily, the rest of the three-day fest at the Empire Polo Grounds in Indio, Calif. went smoother than my entry.

Read the rest of this entry »

Routes Music is a documentary film acting as a roving music census, taking in the true musical passions (and disgusts) of the American people. We’re traveling all across the country, stopping along the way to interview local bands, take footage of live performances and chat with anyone and everyone. Learn more about the documentary here; check out all previous entries here.

Five things you should never forget on a cross-country music documentary tour:

1.  Granola bars
2. Phone charger
3. TV theme song CDs
4. Stun gun sold by a shifty young man on the street
5. A wild and open mind

The last was crucial as our Routes Music crew (Phil, Alex and Terrence — known collectively as P.A.T.) rolled into Orlando on the first day of the tour.

Weary and hungry from a two-hour drive down I-4, we pulled our 2009 Toyota Sienna (known as the “Big Gray Box) into “the world’s largest entertainment McDonald’s.” We grabbed some burgers and were making out way out when Terrence heard an announcer in the far room. Turning the corner, he spotted a stage featuring five Latino teens, ages ranging from 11 to 18. Terrence called us over. “You guys have to see this.” At that moment, the band broke into synchronized dancing over a drum track. Microphones appeared. The performance began. The Los Mega Boyz, a Latino boy band in the vein of the Backstreet Boys and N-Sync, crooned their way around Ronald McDonald murals and teenagers munching on cheeseburgers. They sang saucy numbers about girls and ballads about Selena.

We’d stumbled upon the most bizarre McDonald’s ever. (Video after the jump.) Read the rest of this entry »

Paul Allen leans over his immense desk discussing the family business.  He speaks in a raspy voice not unlike Brando’s in The Godfather, though given to bursts of impromptu songs like, “I kissed a girl and I liked it.” Fingers weighted with gold rings comb his dark, slicked back hair and trimmed goatee. A large man sits in the corner with his tattooed forearms crossed. In an adjacent office, Allen’s wife Tracy finishes Paul’s sentences, filling in names and dates. Allen’s son walks in, getting his father’s approval on a project while Allen’s daughter in-laws announces new callers. Even Allen’s eighty-two year old father works in the office, balancing the books. All the doors are open, promoting an open-air intercom system. With Tampa Bay Downs blocks away, and sports memorabilia layering the walls, one might assume Allen runs a bookie operation. In fact, Allen even played a mafia kingpin in Stormy Daniels’ adult film Whack Jobs. But Allen is no gangster. He’s a business man who heads a family run publishing company, the staple of which is NightMoves—a free, monthly magazine dedicated to Tampa’s active adult scene. Read the rest of this entry »

“To be violated is perhaps a need in women, a secret erotic need.”
- Anais Nin

I am an incredibly dominant woman – a dominatrix, if you will. I frequent fetish parties and take pleasure in enacting people’s fantasy scenarios. Some of my slaves like pain, others humiliation, and some just enjoy doing as they’re told.

On the fetish scene, people only see my femme dom persona, Mistress Ginger: a whip-wielding woman in a vintage slip and seamed stockings, or perhaps a leather-clad school girl leading a gaggle of boys on leashes.

This won’t change any time soon, but I have a hidden fantasy that I keep secret even from those with whom I’m most intimate. Read the rest of this entry »