Tuesday, March 29, 2011

The Untitled Interview #118: Starring Bellflur

Oh hey. Well would you look at that, my fluffy little chickadees, it's nearly April. This means, of course, that there are only 4, count 'em 4, days until the super shindig of much awesomeness at the Bellflur Warehouse, sponsored by yours truly. Obviously, your plans for Saturday are now made, local friends. In honor of this most monumental of occasions, and because y'all know I like to get a little crazy now and then, we're gonna do a little something weird and wonderful with the Bellflurians. I now present to you the special edition Untitled Interview, starring the wild and wooly gang. Read on and be inspired. And make sure you don't miss out Saturday night.

BELLFLUR!

AS A MOVIE: Bellflur is The Edge - Alec Baldwin represents the youth and rebellion of the 20-somethings in the group while Anthony Hopkins brings the grace and temperament of the 30-somethings. As with most movies, the Edge mirrors a typical experience we find ourselves in. The bear (Bellflur) has eaten Patrick (thinking he was a punk smaller bear - the chest hair did it I think), and has now been hunting down the rest of us. Our only hope is to find an abandoned hunting lodge, heal the 20-somethings broken leg (don’t ask - kids think they know everything) with our tempered wisdom and hope that they don’t, in turn, grab the hunting rifle and shoot us in the backs once we finish writing our newest song and then head down river back to the world, telling everyone that we died so that they could live. The worst part of course, being that we didn't go back to eat that little squirrel we captured with the make-shift trap after the helicopter distracted us and we gave the kids a lesson on turning ice into fire. A must-see for all musicians before they go on tour. Cautionary tale. (Carlos) FIRE FROM ICE, BOB!!!

AS A DRINK: Bellflur is............"as Tom lay dying from a musket shot to the groin during an ill-advised civil war reenactment, and using a nearby horse bucket as a grandiose mixer, Eamonn poured in the rest of his cognac, Patrick his whiskey, Carlos his Jamaican rum, Mike his champagne. As would be red-cross nurses, Dana and Susan ran down from afar with lemons and sugar to cut the strength of this potion. The mixture, naturally, was a potent concoction (known in many circles as Chatham Artillery Punch) made to ease Tom's suffering... but each of the contributors tested this new elixir to ensure it would provide the desired result... intoxication ensued and Tom died..." (Patrick)

AS A WEATHER EVENT: Bellflur is either a summer day sunny rainstorm, a la John Fogerty's eternal question, or a quiet winter snow fall during the night. Or a tornado made of cotton-tail rabbits in the South Plains area of Texas.

AS AN OBSCURE VINTAGE LP: Bellflur is the one with a fantastic looking cover, but with no text. You buy it, secretly for the cute girl behind the perfume counter (yes the cover is airbrushed incredibly) but you never tell anyone that. It becomes a mainstay on your vinyl playlist for several months but as your hopes to discern who the band are begin to fade, you tighten the reigns on playing the album. You live in a land before the internet and no one knows what you are talking about when tell them of the album, and the folks at Tower Records don't have the import information you need. (They don't appear overly concerned with your questions despite your haphazardly looking stumble up the escalator:

To go to Lake Forest Mall and try your luck at Sam Goodies, turn to page 23
To call your crazy uncle whose clothes smell like the art teachers closet, turn to page 75

AS A MOMENT IN HISTORY: Bellflur is.........wait, what was the exact moment the world become pregnant with democracy? Cuz that is the moment. I think that makes our parents French. ......which explains the name. ...... which explains the 8 years of French I took despite being told the name Carlos is Spanish.

Or, Bellflur is the moment the winner of the Clear Cola Wars was tabulated. but for real, probably the French thing.

AS A DENOMINATION OF CURRENCY: Bellflur is the equivalent of 0.00001 former Spanish pesetas. Though still in circulation following the collapse of the Bellflur nation, bellflurs (abbreviated as BFR) are not exchangeable in the United States or the European Union... However (and very coincidentally), they can be successfully used to operate a few remaining childrens’ merry-go-rounds at certain McDonald's in the Czech Republic. (Patrick) WHAT! That’s crazy!!!

AS A SPOT IN DC: Bellflur is every left turn on U St when you are in the left lane trying get around the traffic on the right in order to get to DC9 to unload your gear. It looks like its going to get you there quick, but then you have to wait for it, arrrrggggghhh, shit, its going now, I think we will have time to.....arrgrrggghhhhhhh. Jazz drivers might appreciate these vicious changes in tempo and phrasing, but it’s lost on everyone else.

AS A VIDEO GAME/CHARACTER THEREIN: Bellflur is MarioKart for the Wii. I think we've all spent hours playing Mario Kart. This game encompasses it all: Mario, cars, motorcycles, weapons, trippy colors and the ability to bring you from joy to rage in a spilt second. Fuck Rainbow Road. (Tom) Tom forgot to mention that all of those things also encompass our music. Including a general hatred for Rainbow Road (except for me, I like Rainbow Road). Also, everyone in Bellflur has their own Wii. We race as ourselves. Against the world, but generally regional play, our internet suxorz.

AS A WORK OF LITERATURE: Bellflur is a Bill Watterson cartoon of the Brothers Karamazov: Patrick is Fyodor, Tom is Dmitri and Carlos is Ivan. Obviously, I'm Agrafena. And Mike and Eamonn and Susan are Calvin, Hobbes and Susie Derkins, respectively. (Dana)

AS A HISTORICAL FIGURE: Bellflur is Stravinsky after being booed offstage during the Rites of Spring, walking through the audience with his middle fingers aloft. Cursing and spitting and headbutting anyone who gets in his way. Is that a gun or a flask in Bell-Vinsky's coat pocket? I wouldn't wager a guess if I were you. Your best bet is to throw down your fancy white gloves, take your shot and see what fate has in store for you and your once-handsome faux-coif.

AS A CAMPAIGN PROMISE: Bellflur is going to ruin your life.

mp3: Insect Politics (Bellflur from asleep.asleep.)




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