FTW, 2.25.2021

1) This morning, the Texas state legislature -- specifically, the State Affairs and Energy Resources committees -- begins hearings into the failure of the Texas power grid during the recent winter storms. Temperatures started dropping the weekend before Valentine's Day, and by Wednesday, they were lower than they'd been in the state since 1989. Snow fell and stuck. Here in Fort Worth, a catastrophic highway pileup involved 130 vehicles and killed seven. Pipes at gas wells froze, making it impossible to move the fuel from its sources to the power plants that needed it. (Governor Abbott initially tried to place the blame on wind turbines that froze because they weren't winterized, but they were only expected to provide about 10% of the state's power in an emergency.) 

The Energy Reliability Council of Texas (ERCOT), the body that operates the state's electrical grid (which is separate from the two other national grids), directed rolling blackouts which in practice resulted in four million Texans being without power, some for four or five days or even longer. People shivered in their homes, some died. Many were hospitalized for carbon monoxide poisoning after attempting to heat their homes with devices meant for outdoor use only. Water pipes froze, not only in homes but also in municipal water systems, some of which have still not been fully restored as of this date. Even after water service was resumed, people were instructed to boil their water to kill bacteria that entered the water system through damaged pipes. Grocery stores ran out of food before roads were cleared and delivery trucks could run on schedule.

There is plenty of blame to go around. The state's historical unwillingness to regulate power utilities left them free to operate on the cheap, neglecting contingency planning. After winter storms in 2011, the state legislature approved measures that were never implemented to protect against occurrences like we experienced this week. Hoping some meaningful measures can be taken, because in the face of changing climate (that many in the state deny), it's not a matter of "if" this will happen again...it's "when."

2) We had it relatively easy at mi casa. Only lost power for about an hour after four days, so were able to keep water pipes from freezing and bursting, then had a boil order for a couple of days. Typically of houses here, ours isn't well insulated, so keeping the thermostat set to 68, I had to wear two shirts and two pairs of socks to bed for the first time since 1980. Some people were putting on every stitch of clothing they owned and lying down under every blanket in the house. Apartment complexes around town are still without water. There was an unprecedented number of breaks in the city's water lines, many of which are still being repaired.

The Trout Mask Replica guitar project is in kind of a lull as I await some guitar strings I ordered via Amazon (so evil, so convenient) that were delayed by the storm. (Metal fingerpicks are apparently hell on wound G strings.) Currently working on "Wild Life," which is the most challenging Beefheart song I've yet attempted. I have the Antennae Jimmy Semens part (which includes a long rest) down, have another 30 seconds to go on Zoot Horn Rollo's -- perhaps the most complicated individual part on TMR -- which I'll finish when I can restring the Epiphone (need a cutaway to hit some of the notes). Then I'll loop Zoot's part and play Cotton's "live" for the video.

When the storm hit, I was in the middle of yet another Dylan binge. I found Renaldo and Clara, Bob's widely reviled 1977 movie, streaming online, and realized that as stilted as some of his "story" was (and really, it was no worse than, say, Godard's political allegory in One Plus One), the performance footage from the Rolling Thunder Revue is the most compelling live Dylan I've ever seen, bar none -- even more than the '66 tour with the Hawks. In trying to recreate the communal spirit of the Greenwich Village folk scene ca. '61, Bob created a setting -- unlike the "star performer with backing band" format of his '73 tour with the Band -- that allowed him to enjoy performing, and take risks. 

The white pancake makeup probably helped; the mask frees a performer, as I realized the time the li'l Stooge band played at the Moon and Ray came straight to the gig from a Halloween party, with his face painted, and gave the best performance he had up till then. "Isis" and the blues-shuffle "Hard Rain's Gonna Fall" in particular are stunning, the best performances of these songs I can imagine (which maybe, if Paul Williams' Bob Dylan: Performing Artist 1975-1986, which I'm re-reading, is to be believed, just shows the limits of my imagination). Bob's an actor in these filmed performances, his facial expressions and physical movements as key to the songs' impact as his singing and playing. And I finally understand what Mick Ronson (and his phase shifter) were doing in the Rolling Thunder band.

My appetite whetted, I had to see Martin Scorsese's Rolling Thunder Review: A Bob Dylan Story for comparison. The good news is that the performance footage is well presented, and my favorite bits (including "Isis" and "Hard Rain") are preserved (although Marty gets docked a notch for editing Joan Baez's dance to "Eight Miles High"). The only footage of Bob's I really miss is David Blue's pinball-game monologue, and some of Bob's onstage nonverbals with Bob Neuwirth. What's curious is Scorsese's (or Bob's) introduction of bogus characters and situations that add nothing to the narrative, but I suppose the wheat-to-chaff ratio is still higher in RTR:ABDS than in R&C. Besides the onstage stuff, my favorite scenes in Scorsese's film are Bob and Joan in the bar (his discomfort when she scolds him for getting married without telling her is palpable) and Joni Mitchell showing Bob and Roger McGuinn "Coyote" at Gordon Lightfoot's house (she's the best songwriter in the room, and everyone there knows it).

Things we like: Tyshawn Sorey, Marco Oppedisano, Eric Klerks

The pandemic has changed the way we disseminate and consume music because, well, tours are cancelled and music venues are closed (and where they aren't, there's risk from gathering in the time of new, more communicable strains of the virus). From professional quality livestreams to sophisticated home recording setups to camera video uploaded to social media, creatives from around the world continue to shout to the Universe, "I'm alive!" Here are some of the ways music has been helping me get through this "time like no other."

This past weekend, we caught a livestream from NYC's Village Vanguard, that venerable jazz joint where Coltrane, Rollins, Evans, et al. once made records. Tyshawn Sorey, my pick for musician of the century (so far), was filling the Paul Motian slot behind the traps in a trio with Joe Lovano and Bill Frisell. From the mid-'80s on, the trio's music was marked by spaciousness (no bass, lots of melodic unisons) and watercolor lyricism, but with a sting in its tail. In this context, Sorey still thinks like a composer, attacking his small Gretsch kit with a variety of implements (sticks, beaters, brushes) for maximum timbral variety, exercising admirable restraint in the quiet places, making an abstract blues swing, upping the ante to freedom music/erupting volcano levels where Lovano has no choice but to dig in and leave some blood on the stage. Best music I ever heard on my coffee table.

Early on in the pandemic, Queens-based guitarist-composer Marco Oppedisano (whom I first heard on guitar compilations like The $100 Guitar Project and Clean Feed's I Never Metaguitar, Four) posted a series of improvised solo miniatures, often played at the end of virtual lessons, that were an object example of how to be endlessly inventive while sitting down. They were a source of inspiration and a reminder that you can be creative wherever you are with what you have available. During the pandemic, Marco got certified to teach music in NYC public schools, and started a career where he was forced to improvise under suboptimal conditions. But he continued with his work in electroacoustic composition, using only an electric guitar and bass. His latest release, "Klang," appears on the second installment of a five-volume anthology, Walk My Way, curated by Nick Vander, that's intended to showcase "the incredible musical range of the guitar, as well as the imaginative possibility of guitarists around the world." Marco's piece exemplifies these traits, using chiming harmonics as a percussive element, overlaying layers of texture, sighing volume swells, and sounds that highlight the instrument's physicality, weaving a skein of psychedelic-sounding modality through the mix.

Finally, Eric Klerks is an LA-based guitarist and bassist with a jazz background (he once worked as a personal assistant for Charlie Haden!) who played in the last incarnation of the reunited Magic Band, performing Captain Beefheart's music with John "Drumbo" French. His YouTube vids (included in my YT Beefheart video playist) were a great help to me in getting started on the Trout Mask Replica project, as were his thoughts on practice (basically, that you're not shooting for any particular goal or achievement, just spending time with the instrument in the moment where you are today). He's also been conducting guided mindfulness meditations that I've found useful via his Facebook and Instagram pages. Eric plays in Android Trio with former Magic Band members Max Kutner (who was in the last Grandmothers of Invention lineup we saw at the Kessler) and Andy Niven, and they have a record in the works with ex-Frank Zappa multi-instrumentalist Mike Keneally that I can't wait to hear. He also has a solo project, La Sirene, that covers the whole waterfront, from jazzy explorations to swamp blues, as exemplified by this eponymous track.

Tornup & BLKrKRT's "Hologram Zoo Vol. 1: The Crypt"

"I wanted change so bad."

It takes a big person to admit that you tried and failed. It takes a bigger one to get up and try again.

Back in 2016, multi-racial rapper Tornup's unremittingly optimistic (and Fort Worth-centric) opus Utopian Vanguard (Heart of the Funk) dropped on Election Day -- a postcard from the ass-end of the Obama era that got swept away in the torrent of stochastic terror that followed. His 2019 release, You Will Never Understand (The State of the Soul), took on nothing less than the prison industrial complex, and won "Album of the Year" honors from FW Weekly, for what it's worth. 

But last year's killings by police of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor and, closer to home, Atatiana Jefferson -- just three names in a litany that's long and ongoing -- jarred the consciousness of a nation locked down by a pandemic that too many still deny. It was as clear as the sting of tear gas and the report of a flash bang that Black Americans remain the unwanted reminder of this country's unfulfilled promise. Art can catalyze, but it takes action, sustained for generations, to bring about lasting change.

Hip-hop's a social music, but denied the outlet of a live audience, Tornup went back to the well, dug deep, and came up with his most developed concept yet. The Crypt is the first volume of a projected trilogy, with a story line that revolves around a trio of venture capitalists who create an app that brings dead Black artists back to virtual life. Their scheme brings them into conflict with a deceased rapper whose last will and testament called for the erasure of his digital footprint. It's a virtual radio play that requires deep listening, so you'll want to sit down and tune out distractions for the first few spins.

Things we like: John Stevens, Darrin Kobetich

Back when I was freelancing for the FW Weekly, my editor once told me, "You can't just write about your friends." The occasion was a review I submitted of a CD by the late Mick Farren and the Deviants. My immediate response: "I can't help it if I make friends easily." Farren's response when I told him: "Every movement in art since the beginning of time has been fueled by people writing about their friends." 

Every creative endeavor is a way of shouting at the Universe, "I'm alive!" This is more challenging than usual when live performance becomes an opportunity to infect and be infected. Thus, the pandemic year has brought forth a plethora of live streams and recording projects. (Thank Ceiling Cat for Bandcamp Fridays.) These two, by local performers whose careers I've been following for a couple of decades now, have special merit.

I first encountered John Stevens when he was 19 and working in a music store where I used to trade. While I was on DUI probation, there was a circle of cats who used to come out to my divorced dad duplex in Benbrook to jam, and one Sunday, John came out and impressed everyone with his gift for mad fluid blues guitar invention. He was playing in a Stevie Ray bag then, and had every move from the Live at the El Mocambo vid down. Later on, he'd levitate the old Black Dog Tavern downtown with Confusatron during their regular Thursday night exorcisms, and go on to play with local eminences like Sally Majestic and Carey Wolff and the Morning After. The association that paid off the most for Mr. Stevens, however, was with Lannie Flowers, who once fronted local power poppers the Pengwins and coached John in songwriting while utilizing his talents for numerous tours and recordings that included Lannie's 2019 album Home. 

I was pleasantly surprised a few weeks ago to hear John's first solo recording, Living Room, which he just released digitally, with limited edition vinyl to follow. While I knew him for years as a fiery, groovin' guitarist, I'd only heard him sing a couple of times before, with the eclectic jam band Nuthin' Special. But on Living Room -- recorded with multi-instrumentalist Taylor Tatsch at Taylor's studio outside Austin -- John sings his own songs like "Heart On My Sleeve," "If I Sing," and "American Dream" (the last of which got him an "explicit lyrics" tag from Amazon) with great assurance and expression, in a country/Americana vein. Properly promoted, he could be another Vince Gill. And his instrumentals, which comprise about half the album, have a cinematic sweep that makes him a good candidate for filmmakers seeking an atmospheric composer. If there's a non-snazz aspect to the record, it's John's drumming, which is functional but doesn't lift the songs the way some of the drummers John knows might have. We'll call it a pandemic thing.

In my area code, the king of guitar-based instrumental music is Darrin Kobetich, my fellow Long Island expat who's continued touring his acoustic solo thing through the pandemic, and whose records always represent whatever he's been working on during a particular window of time. The Yucca Tapes has particular resonance for me because I got to observe, from the periphery, the circumstances of its creation. One of the last live shows I attended, pre-Covid, was one of the Rage Out Arkestra's rare Shipping and Receiving stands, in which Darrin served as the rock wildcard in the band's jazz-fueled improvisational stew. Last year, I was one of a handful of cats who'd occasionally jam at the house on Yucca Ave., across I-35 from downtown, where Darrin lived for a couple of years. Sometimes, when the regular drummer didn't show, he'd sit behind the traps and demonstrate a good sense of dynamics (no surprise from someone who grew up listening to Bonham and Peart).

You can hear that on "1977," the centerpiece of The Yucca Tapes, which started out as a Rush-inspired acoustic solo piece but developed into a multi-layered homage to some of the players who inspired Darrin in his formative years (Roth, Schenker, Page, Beck -- have fun playing "Spot the influences!"), including an oud solo. The album also includes three pieces from Hip Pocket Theater's production of Edward Abbey's The Monkey Wrench Gang. Darrin's a big Abbey fan, and it was a gas seeing him perform a live soundtrack to the play. Writing for theater has really opened up Darrin's compositions since percussionist extraordinaire Eddie Dunlap first called him for the gig. Overall, the album makes me realize how far Darrin's progressed from the days when he used to hold down a Friday happy hour gig at the Wreck Room (RIP). One of the things I love about live music is being able to watch artists grow and develop over time -- something we'll hopefully be able to get back to by the end of this year. At least John and Darrin's releases give me something to listen to and cogitate on while I'm waiting for the call from Tarrant County Public Health to come get the vaccine.

Eris 136199's "Peculiar Velocities"

Woke up today and looked on social media. Was surprised to see photos of sleeping National Guard soldiers sprawled al over the floors of the US Capitol building. I shouldn't have been surprised: GIs can sleep anywhere. While I'm hoping that this batch don't have to use their weapons, I'm glad they are where they are. 

It's been a week now since a lynch mob incited by the electorally defeated president of the United States -- now the second holder of that office in history to be impeached twice -- invaded the Capitol during a joint session of Congress in an attempt to overturn the results of that election. They attacked with murderous intent, killing a police officer and injuring dozens more. Several members of the mob also died, one shot by police. The members of Congress barely escaped, but were back in session hours later, fulfilling their Constitutional duty to certify the election result. It was, among other things, the largest incidence of racist voter  suppression ever carried out in a nation that has a long history of such. There is much still to be learned about this, but 160 people have already been charged for their part in the riot.

It's been hard to focus lately. Besides the political turbulence, Covid-19 is still with us. (I'm hoping to get the call to come take my first vaccination soon.) At a time like this, writing about music seems silly. Everything's online now for people to listen to and decide for themselves whether it's worth their lucre. I've barely read anybody else's music scrawl for years. (Current exceptions: Alex Ross, whose Wagner book I need to get, and Ethan Iverson.) But I write about stuff reflexively, like a nervous tic, as a way of trying to understand it. And if I dig it, and I can pull your coat to it, why not share the enjoyment? And then, surprise, a slim cardboard mailer with this CD in it arrived from distant shores. After this lengthy throat-clearing, I'll try and describe it.

To my earlier point about everything being available digitally, I'll add the caveat that I'm a 20th century guy: I'm still infatuated with the Romance of the Artifact -- inasmuch as a record collector friend of mine shared that he's been thinking about how acquisitiveness and colonialism are related; are we more introspective because of the pandemic, or just because we're old? I like looking at artwork on a three dimensional package, not a screen. I like reading liner notes in a format where I don't have to squint and pump up the magnification -- and as it happens, Peculiar Velocities has notes that are laid out in a way that reflects the creative process of the music contained in the 1's and 0's on this shiny silver disc. So when the opportunity arose to contribute to the Kickstarter that Eris 136199 prime mover Han-earl Park had set up to fund the production of this CD, I jumped on it.

Park and Nick Didkovsky share a fascination with the sonic possibilities of both electric guitars and technology -- Park as builder of cyborg musicians, Didkovsky as creator of music software -- but their approaches couldn't be more different. Park's playing is about the physicality of the instrument. He uses a heavy attack to strike, pluck, and scrape the strings, damping and muting to maximize the guitar's percussive potential, occasionally eliciting chiming harmonics, then using electronics to distort and distend the sounds so they slither and spatter like radio interference, shimmer like molten silver, or ring like a cymbal's decay. At times it seems as though under his touch, the spirit of electricity becomes a living thing. 

Like all great rock guitarists, Didkovsky is concerned with tone and texture as well as note production, and he and saxophonist Catherine Sikora -- the melodic wildcard here -- do an exemplary job of listening to each other and playing in complementary sound fields. In fact, all three musicians sound like they are continually listening to and interpreting each other's statements before responding -- the best type of musical conversation, abstract and oblique as it might be at times. Sikora's tenor has a warm, dark, earthy quality that grounds the guitars lest they take off into the cosmos. I've listened to this thing a half dozen times since I started writing yesterday, and am happy to have its company to help me get through what looks like it's going to be a very tough winter...and the hopeful spring to follow.

FTW, 12.15.2020

I bootlegged the Stoogeaphilia gig list from Facebook after the "Notes" pages disappeared (which I'd thought would only apply to new material, not archives). Curiously, I was able to recover it by searching the page's history, but I'm not taking for granted that such will remain so in perpetuity. 

This got me thinking about the impermanence of the digital realm. I've been unenthused about digital music and movies ever since iTunes took a dump and sent 75% of my downloaded music to the widowmaker. Again curiously, when my wife was cleaning out the old computer, she found all the files, but I'd been unable to access them through the media player, so WTF? I guess cloud-based stuff is different, but I'm not moving all my writings there. 

I started this blog in 2004, when I'd decided to give up writing for the local alt-weekly; the e.e. cummings affectation of no initial caps makes most of what I wrote the first few years look kind of silly. After awhile I reverted to using them for stuff I wanted other people to read, then eventually, everything. 

Lots of music blogs are like real magazines. Thisun has always been more like a notebook that I use to try and learn about things. One could argue that the ease of accessing music via streaming platforms and things like YouTube negates the need for music writing; how many times can you write the same story? I've always tried to be descriptive, rather than resorting to "RIYL"-type comparisons, but what's the point when readers can hear for themselves?

Gradually over time, my scrawl has been disappearing from the internet. I started having stuff published on the I-94 Bar in, I think, 1998. I wrote for the Fort Worth Weekly from 2002-2004 and again in 2009-2010. I've written for other outlets (most notably, Phil Overeem's now-extinct First Church of Holy Rock and Roll) for shorter intervals. I have considered self-publishing a vanity press anthology, but really, what would be the point? Is there really anything I've done that I consider to have enduring worth? No, not really. All there is, is a collection of moments that probably don't mean much to anyone but me. Not worth the trouble and expense.

I have considered folding the tent here, but figure it's not time yet. I'll continue thinking and writing about music, because that's what I do. If nothing else, I like having this receptacle for permalinks to my stuff that remains out there in the ether, and other stuff I like to access on a recurring basis. But if Blogger starts acting like that other platform, I've always enjoyed writing in real physical notebooks, and I've got plenty of 'em.

Stoogeaphilia gig list (salvaged from Facebook Notes)

 2019

10.13.2019 Sunshine Bar (Arlington) w/Phorids. Not bad for no rehearsal after 21 months. We miss Richard, but we got through (including an attempt at "Ain't It Fun" for our friend from Duell).

2018

1.7.2018 Lola's FW Burrito Project 10th Anniversary w/Honky Tonk Country Club, Carey Wolff, William Bryan Massey III, and Taylor Craig Mills. Chris Bellomy joined us on sax for "Funhouse," "Dog," and "Little Doll." Matt likes Ken's new power conditioner real much.

2017

9.16.2017 Lola's "Matturday" w/Sur Duda and the Mike Haskins Experience. Bellomy joined us again for "1970" and, this time, "Funhouse." Ken broke a string, Jon cracked a hi-hat cymbal, and Richard was on fire, playing a Sharrock-via-Townshend chaos slide solo on "Rich Daddy" (for which we have Gary Floyd's "Big Dick Seal of Approval" on Youtube...seriously). Carl Giesecke from the Haskins Experience provided sleigh bells on "Dog."

1.20.2017 Lola's "Not My President's Day!" w/Bogus Green, Mean Motor Scooter. Chris Bellomy played sax on "1970." Ken's amp blew -- or was it dirty power? -- and Alan May from Bogus Green saved our night with the loan of his Bassman. We played a request that wasn't "Marquee Moon." And while no TCU girls climbed onstage during "Rich Daddy," a TCU professor was going apeshit up front.

2016

12.16.2016 Lola's (two sets) w/BULLS. (Addendum) Ken: I had an atrial fib event during "Loose." Rene Gomez snapped a picture of me at the precise instant when I thought I was going to pass out. Massey's kids offered to help me load out. I declined. A block and a half later I was sitting on the curb, puking. After that I started exercising the "old man option" on loadout.

7.30 Lola's Trailer Park w/Heater. (Addendum) Ken: I had an atrial fib event right before we hit, while talking to Cameron Smith about the Velvet Underground. I thought it was an anxiety attack.

1.9 1912 Club w/The Crack Pipes (Austin), BULLS, Tame Tame & Quiet.

2015

8.1 "Blessing of the Cars" at Barberville (Bedford) w/a band from Galveston that subbed for Bad Blonde at the last minute. Richard had amp problems and we played with the sun in our eyes.

7.11 Chloe Hurley's Sweet 16 party

5.8 Lola's: Ray's 43rd birthday w/Duell, The Dangits, One Fingered Fist, Wiliam Bryan Massey III

2014

10.5 Embargo (private party; two sets). (Addendum) Ken: I had an atrial fib event on the first downbeat of "Down On the Street." Got tunnel vision and broke out in a sweat. Thought I was having a heart attack. Never thought to stop the show.

*8.7 Sunshine Bar (Arlington) "Benefit for Marley" w/Caliche Burnout, Convoy and the Cattlemen; we played from midnight 'til close.

2013

3.1 The Grotto (Benefit for Addy) w/Tripp Mathis, Merkin, Addnerim, Prophets of Rage, Sally Majestic. (Addendum) Ken: I hadn't seen any of the guys for nine months at the time we played this show.

2012

7.28 The Cellar (two sets)

*6.24 Poag Mahone's (FW Weekly Music Awards showcase) w/Doom Ghost, FTW, Beauxregard, Vorvon, War/Party. Ken was sick as a dog and used Rick Sharp's amp. Some good photos. Playing in the daytime is weird.

6.20 Lola's (two sets): our sixth anniversary (two months late) and Ken's 55th birthday (a week early); Ken celebrated by blowing up his amp.

5.26 Sunshine Bar (Arlington) "Fight for Maddie" w/Wild Tribe, Zombie Shark Attack, Perdition

4.21 Doc's Records (Record Store Day) w/Whiskey Folk Ramblers, Fungi Girls, No Future, The Cush, Doom Ghost, Year of the Bear, War Party

3.12 Chat Room w/Restaurant, War Party

2.11 Where House w/Mike Haskins Experience, Fungi Girls (awesome and unbelievable), Doom Ghost

*1.14 Cowtown Bowling Palace (two sets). We were all sick as dogs, two River Oaks cops watched the whole show, and all the kids hated us because we had the game room blocked. Still, the most satisfied we've all ever been after a show.

2011

11.27 Lola's w/The Queers, Knock-Out, How's My Driving, Reno Divorce, Pratty

10.14 Lola's w/STEW!, The Red 100's

9.16 Basement Bar w/The Dangits, Dixie Witch

8.27 Basement Bar w/The Strange Attractors, The Wolf

5.14 Arts Goggle @ Landers Machine Shop

5.8 Lolaspalooza w/Spoonfed Tribe, Rivercrest Yacht Club, Sally Majestic, Brandin Lea, and more (Pro shot vid by Joe Easton and Room 4 Media Group)

4.9 Lola's w/The Dangits, E.T.A.

3.12 Doublewide (Dallas) w/Bipolar Express, Darstar

2.19 Sunshine Bar (Arlington) w/Convoy & the Cattlemen, Magnus

1.8 Lola's w/The Black Dotz, E.T.A.

2010

12.17 Mambo's Podcast

10.14 Lola's w/STEW!, In Bad Taste

9.25 Moon w/E.T.A., china kills girls

9.16. Doc's Records - MATTURDAY

*6.27 7th Haven - FW Weekly Music Awards Showcase. JT makes the greatest entrance of all ti-i-ime. The soundguy's helper slept through our entahr set.

5.30 Lola's 6th - FW Burrito Project Benefit

*5.15 Tradewinds Social Club (Oak Cliff) w/D. Wayne Grubb & Cutthroat Thompson; Wanz Dover let us use his PA and guests on sax for "1970" and "Funhouse"

5.8 Lola's 6th - Lola's Palooza; Ben Marrow again guests on sax for "1970" and "Funhouse"

4.17 Moon w/Sunglasses & Mushrooms, Kerry Dean; Ben Marrow guests on sax for "1970" and "Funhouse" (Ken: "I forgot!")

3.26 Lola's 6th w/The Black Dotz, Bastardos De Sancho

1.9 Grotto w/Great American Novel, Fate Lions

2009

12.16 Caves Lounge (Arlington) w/Magnus

11.14 Lola's Stockyards w/The Dangits (Audio recorded by Jeff Arsenault)

10.14 Caves Lounge (Arlington) w/One Fingered Fist

10.10 Moon w/One Fingered Fist, Bipolar Express, DJ Mojo Workout

8.22   Muddy Waters (Dallas) - Cancelled

7.16   Lola's 6th w/The Strange Attractors

5.22   Moon w/Transistor Tramps, Harry Has A Head Like A Ping Pong Ball

5.9     Lola's 6th w/Bastardos de Sancho, One Fingered Fist -- Sound tech who shall remain nameless let Bastardos play for an hour and a half; we got 30 minutes.

2.28   Ridglea Theater w/Addnerim, Rivercrest Yacht Club, Prophets of Rage, Merkin; Bob Fisher guests on sax for "1970," "Funhouse," and "L.A. Blues."

2008

*12.19 Moon w/The Fellow Americans, Jefferson Colby -- "The Night of the Germans"

12.12 Fairmount w/Yells At Eels, Forest Ward

12.7   Lola's 6th - Fraf Benefit w/Rivercrest Yacht Club, Tony Ferraro, Clint Niosi, Darrin Kobetich, The Magic of Ash Adams

11.1   Moon w/The Fellow Americans, Transistor Tramps

*10.18 7th Haven parking lot - Burrito Project Benefit w/The Great Tyrant, Eaton Lake Tonics, The Fellow Americans, others

10.12 Fairmount Fraf Benefit w/One Fingered Fist, Transistor Tramps

9.16   Fairmount w/Great American Novel (MATTURDAY!)

8.31   Lola's 6th - Lola's Sunday Picnic w/Me-Thinks, Titanmoon, Jefferson Colby, The CutOff, Hurt Street. Ken lent his bloody Tele to Paul Metzger afterwards.

8.14   Fairmount w/One Fingered Fist, The Fellow Americans. Richard's debut.

6.28   Chat Room w/Scene Girls, Elcaset. Sir Steffin's "retirement."

6.7     Moon w/Urizen, Great American Novel

5.4     Fred's - Fredfest

4.5     Fred's - Burrito Project Benefit

3.9     Chat Room w/Stella Rose, Spindrift

2007

11.30 6th Street Live w/The Fellow Americans, One Fingered Fist

8.30   6th Street Live

*6.28   Wreck Room. Ken's 50th birthday, "Marquee Moon" debuts.

5.6     Fred's - Fredfest w/Merkin, Von Ehrics, Me-Thinks, Howling Dervishes, Gideons, Jasper Stone

4.25   Wreck Room

2.25   Wreck Room

1.25   Wreck Room

2006

12.28 Black Dog Tavern w/Sir Marlin Von Bungy on bass

12.13 Wreck Room w/Impulse of Will

11.29 Wreck Room (w/Browningham?)

10.26 Black Dog Tavern. Nathan Brown pays a visit.

10.14 Fred's w/Gideons, Me-Thinks, Honky. Ken gets too drunk to play; Bobby from Honky sits in.

9.28   Black Dog Tavern

8.31   Black Dog Tavern

7.28 Black Dog Tavern

6.29   Black Dog Tavern

6.7     Wreck Room w/Impulse of Will, Velvet Jive, Kind Buds -- Ray goes to the bar for a drink during "TV Eye."

*5.28   Rose Marine Theater plaza. We played two sets and got numerous noise complaints, but police couldn't find the source (although Clay Stinnett did).

5.18   Black Dog Tavern - First "I Wanna Be Your [Black] Dog" Thursday; Sir Steffin joins up.

4.19   Wreck Room w/Impulse of Will - First gig. Audio recorded by Andre Edmonson.

* = Ken's faves (really: the best show is always the next one)