Friday, April 3, 2009

Derrin Maxwell LIVE!!!

Getting back into my groove.
Here's some footage from the show we did at Black Betty last week with Len Xiang. They were awesome as well. I'll have some video up from them soon, when I get permission. People really liked this show. We had a pretty good turnout. I do miss some of my old friends that used to come. I guess new people are even better, the music is spreading!
I got a lot of comments about how much they liked the performance and the writing. It was encouraging. I can't wait to release some of the new stuff I've been completing.
It's really special to me, but so is this!

Wide Open

Derrin Maxwell -vox
Dalmar James - Guitar
Moist Paula - Bari-sax
Elie Katz - Drums *special guest*
Ganessa James - Bass

Monday, March 16, 2009

four artist I love that you should know and why

Sweetcheeba -
Visually this dude has created some of the best T-shirts I've seen in my life!!! He's a brooklyn based designer with a creative eye that translates through generations of style and appeals to the public, in person in a way I've never seen anyone do so. He should really be on TV, like yester-year. Everybody loves this cat and his work. He has a spring line launching 3/17/09 (with a smirnoff sponsor) so if you're in town, check the flyer on his page for details. Heads up! he's got a pretty slick blog too.

3beanstew -
a definite favorite of mines. He's ever evolving and hasn't even shown you all that he has to offer. He's writes amazing shorts and is producing a radio-stage show for the spring while touring with Saul Williams, along with the 3beanstew theatre company where he travels to libraries and public schools presenting a kick-ass puppet show shaping the future.

Wrekonize -
I was in Miami with Jean when these guys were shooting the video for the cut with DJ Idee and on the way back he played us this cut called "Fugitive". I kid you NOT when I say this tune stayed in my head for MONTHS! He had to send it to us and we let it rock till the bandwidth popped!

Tasha West -
for more than a decade she's been creating spiritually based and astrologically inspired jewelry for some very fortunate fort green consumers and many celebrities, (Erykah Badu, Andre 3000, Common, Derrin Maxwell *ha* just checking to see who's reading). She recently was presented with the opportunity for space at Anthropologie @ 50 Rockefeller Plaza NYC location and sold out damn near over the weekend! Kick-Ass! She's also a marvelous painter and illustrated Common's children's book series, may of which can be found on Amazon.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

One Phobia

It crawled, likely from the bowels, by way of the baggage we drudge in transition. Initially would only exist in an intense adhesive capacity, close to the chest, with a deep-seeded intent to be seen. That's no matter of conscious or sub conscious motivations just one of those things that just are. Days turn to years to see the pattern reverse, returning back to your first last day. Stumbling around everything familiar until the space is nothing but old clothes, shoes & artifacts that remind you of their season, circling for crumbs discarded in careless indulgence. What you thought was destined to remain buried and faceless tip-toes onto the stage where you perform your daily routine. It creeps to where you keep your company threatening to waltz with you in front of all your friends. Finds where you dream and postures to plague the very place you design tomorrows with the one you love. Lucky to find it and proceed with meticulous care to expire an easily compounded pest of an issue you desperately want t keep private. So you pick up a house shoe and try to squash the water-bug on the wall over your headboard with no light, trying hard not to wake and alarm your fiance' who's sleeping.
That's her one phobia.

the private school drop off

I stopped writing to repeat patterns of writers & left my ideas riddled in the ripples of a glass of bourbon. So gathered my burdens and residual issues somewhere near the bottom in the muck that I wallowed in. I stayed there until reeking of rotted wishes, the halitosis of such"should have, could have, one day will do" thoughts as the flies begin to congregate in my thought bubbles that once harbored bright ideas.
Vultures circle my will, laying on the concrete like a shadow whose puppeteer has not seen the changing lights. There is no sense of desperation here. No urge to rescind this curse or rebuke these demons. I am low.
Do you know anything about such saturated despair? Been inclined to heavy yourself to feel the pressure of being at the bottom of the pool resisting any inherent inclination to be lifted? Drowning in the bluest blue, no sight of the sun above, that's me. The ink never dries here and the windows reveal nothing. Do you know the place?
Not suicidal but so unclear on what living is that I don't know death by shadowy figure or cold, damp breath exuding from it's faceless stillness. The only thing for certain is that I must write my way out of this.

The start