Geez, okay. We stayed with this kindhearted dude, Mr. Ryan Chavez, in Houston, and he was a gentleman and a Beatles scholar. We listened to the four-track breakdown of several Sgt. Pepper songs, and let me tell you, the ghost vocal tracks on “A Day in the Life” were lovely and shocking. Not even talking about the bassline from “With A Little Help From My Friends.” Good god. Despite being the only Beatles song that sounds better covered (see Joe Cocker’s glorious Wonder Years theme, something the movie Across the Universe happened to get right), it still sports the most wicked non-repeating bassline ever. We went with Emily Driskoll to see our buddies The Whigs play down the street, and that rocked like it always does. Great live band, The Whigs, and the utmost gentlemen.
Then it was Lawrence, Kansas, with their terrific bookstore, The Raven. The staff is genuine and helpful, and they had many kind words for Tom Franklin’s book Smonk, which I love with all my heart. It’s this wonderful, beautifully-written, tenderhearted gorefest. It’s got everything you want from a B movie zombie epic, and yet few books are written with so much care and grace and love. I and the staff of The Raven agree that it deserves a close, open-minded read, as it will yield a great reward. Later that night we had a much-needed Wii Mario Kart session, and we saw this Amish grunge dude. Like, he had the beard and an In Utero shirt (which, if you haven’t guessed, is one of my favorite records on earth. We sometimes do Nirvana, Misfits and Fugazi covers under the name Meat Crib, at this fantastic bar in Oxford called Jubilee. I love that place. We actually gave them our practice PA after Patrick tripped over it at a Futuro Boots show, just sayin’.)
Somewhere along the way our wonderful booking agent, ole Papa Bear himself, Mr. Andrew Ellis, showed up, and he assured me he would never read this, because “blogs are lame.” At some point in the van ride Jesse dribbled some peepee on him (as, you know, to minimize bathroom stops, we often urinate in bottles, mostly Gatorade or Snapple. In this case, Jesse filled it a little too full, and maybe some of it spilled out on Ellis) which resulted in Jesse threatening to throw Ellis’ shoe out of the van after a fight ensued. I love Andrew Ellis. Len even gave him a Dale Earnhardt Jr., DVD that we got from an all-night Wal Mart (I’m sorry! We didn’t mean to support the beast! It was late and we were wanting produce and Blade Runner!), which was awesome.
What else? Loving that new Why? record. Loving my dear friend Gary Short’s fantastic poetry. Re-read Captain Maximus on the toilet during a terrific 4-a.m.-fast-food-revenge session. Check out our friends’ band The Sleeping Bulls. They’re on MySpace, and they rule like crazy. Their next album is gonna be called Chinatown, and it will make you go to a quiet place, where maybe you keep all the fragile things from your childhood, and then break everything in it. They’re the guys that turned me onto Talk Talk, Blue Nile, and Geoffery Hill’s poetry. Lost of driving, so I re-read The Aeneid, The Jungle Book, A Good Man Is Hard To Find, and finished season one of Twin Peaks (for maybe the sixth time). That’s it. One more blog to go after this. Hope it’s a joy.
Much love and all that...
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So glad you listen to Why? It is so good.