2025-05-10 - Nublu Classic, New York
On Stage :
Concert with guests : Kraig Jarret Johnson, Greg Wieczorek, Danny Ray and Dustin Napoli.
"The Visitor" is a poem written by Joe and posted on Instagram the same day.
Setlist :
Incomplete & not in order. Please email me any infos.
Invisible Hands
Lack A Vision
The Visitor (musical poem)
Black Lexus
Temporary People > Travel As Equals
Exhausted
Enough To Get Away
Slide Away
Crying Like A Man
In The Sun
Recording :
Sadly, there's no audio recording of this event. If I am wrong, thank you to inform me by email.
Ruby took time to immortalizing some songs, thank you so much!
Poster :
The Visitor
New York City
What is it?
A cacophonous happening
Where lives intermingle
And explode on the asphalt
Dominated by skyscrapers
And traffic
I see the bikes zoom by
And the fit speed racers
Ride between cars bumping into each other
Over steam rising from manholes
And I remember when I was one of them
New York City elite (the bikers)
The ones who know the city and understand it’s pulse and heartbeat better than most
Glued to the street on spinning wheels
As we ricochet over bridges
The Manhattan
The Williamsburg
The brooklyn
Foundations of our journey throughout the Burroughs (springboards into new dreams and locations the bridges are)
But now I’m here as a tourist
I no longer live here (I even look like Arizona)
Just amongst the many who are passing through
Taking pictures of things real New Yorkers don’t even see anymore
(I’m one of those people I used to pass by and think, that’s cute)
The city is a cosmic explosion that’s easy to take for granted
When you wake up each morning as the human fuse
Lit by its movement to become a firecracker of creation.
Jackhammer brainstems electrified
And on a mission to cultivate culture
Add to it
Consume it
Contribute
And blossom within its limitless confines (and contradictions)
In that way we could see NYC as a Petrie dish
Of creation folding into itself
And blossoming from the crevices
Like white lightning
Or spray paint filling the brick walls with graffiti
(And why do I regret most of all not making more graffiti when I was a resident here? Every wall an opportunity)
And though it’s true I no longer live here, if however we eliminate linear time
The ghosts of my past selves are still populating everywhere
Old apartments I lived in for years and forgot about
Jump out at me walking round the corner
Entire chapters of life I see in puddles on the street reflecting those buildings in the struggling Sun
Doorways where break ups happened
Ethereal tears still flooding phantom eyes
Blocks and blocks of city blocks where my headphones used to blare albums I was making
Old songs sung by a ghost in a subway at dawn
We break through the clouds of the past to be here now
The city invites us in again
It’s always inviting us in and then pushing us out
It’s a hard place to live
And a hard place to leave
The emotion of motion
Twisting you into car horn explosions
To be released again
In Thompkins square park
Where I met your mother
Someday maybe you will populate these streets
With the multitudes you become
Leaving identities behind
In life’s constant becoming
Born out of New York City
The mother of invention.
Comments
Post a Comment