Photos

This is my friend mr. piLLow
He's a very serious man
Occasionally he dances

He keeps butterflies
A whole room full of them
boisterous butterflies

But that is not his business, only his fun
Cloud manufacture
Everyday
Except blue sky lullaby
then he goes to the beach
to feel the sand

7:00 pm, monday
any monday in any town
my life on repeat

want to feel alive
want to feel young
want to feel love
no
feel nothing
what a scared little boy
i have 23 dollars

want to see the world
want to see the truth
want to see my self
no
see nothing
what a foolish little boy
i have 23 dollars

want to be wealthy
want to be perfect
want to be sex-exy
no
be nothing
what a meretricious young man
i have 23 dollars

those brief moments
when we reach beyond
intangible surreality
somewhere between breathing in
and breathing out
Life completely suspended

A finger point
an eyelash flash
cigarettes glow orange
black t-shirts, uniforms

and the human spirit ebbs and flows

between martinis and Chuck Berry
between a cold beer and the alarm next morning
Yes, Yes!
Somewhere in between the flicker of a candle
and a cartoon smash

that nameless sentiment
beats and pulses
writhes, flails
drowns

i am a video screen collage
flicker fast flash
i am music,
life made audible
i am art
splashes of supercilious expression
in a brown
plastic
frame

*photo courtesy ryan hurtgen

Train Train

In order to be completely out of order, I will now recount a tale from last Saturday night:

Went to see my big sis Christa and niece Lili down in the Boro





Bought a pair of Kareem Abdul-Jabbar white Adidas basketball shoes







Back to Nashville to join my attorney, Sir Keenan Popwell










Picked up Sweet St Louis from the 111





After several departures from seeking the white rabbit, landed at Layla's Bluegrass Inn where Heath Haynes and the Four Ballers were doing their best to ward off evil vandy rats.

Playing a fiendish mix of classic country, rockabilly, and eclectica, they kept the boots bootin and the shoes scootin. I ran into Heath down at 3 Crow Bar the other night. Come to find out he moved here a little over a year ago from Richmond, VA. And boy are we glad to have him. Hands down, best cover of the Lower Broadway standard, "Fulsom Prison Blues", I've heard yet. He's secured a regular spot down at Layla's Saturday nights, giving us locals a reason to haunt downtown again.

Heath will be performing his original tunes March 26th at the Basement for New Faces Night. Mark it on your callendar, or write it on your underwear. Check out his myspace for a quick listen.

Unfortunately, details from the rest of the evening cannot be disclosed due to a strong recommendation from my attorney. So I'll let you make up the end of this story.


*Heath Haynes photos courtesy Keenan Popwell

OBEY

There's rules to this shit people. When I highlight a link, go there. Tell the artist I sent you. If you like them tell me. If you don't, tell me. Eat a lollipop.

Revival

There are moments when you forget how to feel. Life becomes mundane. Conversation tastes gray. Then you go see a guy, on a stage, wearing a black leather jacket, unkempt hair. He's playing a guitar, singing, stomping his feet. Violently. And before you can say Steve Stevers, a torrential kaleidoscope of audible color baptizes your wicked soul and sets you merry-fucking free.

East Nashville's Grandfather of Rock awoke the crowd at Mercy Lounge Sunday night with a barrage of amplified acoustic guitar, electronic footpad drum triggers, a tambourine, and a boom box blaring hefty Wu Tang beats between songs. Chet Weise has been intimidating hipster indie suckers and bringing the ruckus for many years now. Do some homework you lazy bastards:

1. Quadrajets
myspace allmusic

2. Immortal Lee County Killers
myspace allmusic

Play till you bleed. Play it from the depths of your soul. Play on Playa.

An all star cast was on hand to see "the Cheetah" do his deed. Mark "Porkchop" Holder, Dean Jackson, and Mike Raber to name a few. If you don't know who they are, you need to. Ask your mother. (Dean is not online yet, he's been working on putting together a much anticipated album. As soon as I know more so will you. He's played a few tracks for me at his home studio. Very impressive. David Gray. Except 100 times better than David Gray.)

Mark comes to East Nashville by way of Chattanooga, TN and The Black Diamond Heavies. He's gone solo and is making some amazing roots blues music. BDH is still rocking minus Mark (but we're all hoping for a reunion show at 3 Crow Bar.)

Mike Raber's reputation should precede him. However, if you're a commie bastard and don't know who he is then go to Springwater on a Saturday night where he'll serve you a nice warm glass of shut the hell up. He's been booking bands and tending bar there for the last 3 years. Some might also know him as the lead singer of now defunct On Command, Nashville's last real hardcore band. Rumor is there's a reunion show in late March. Fuck yeah.

Now go flee like roaches running from light. Foolish arthropods.

*photos courtesy Keenan Popwell

Queen of Hearts

Yet another contender for Nashville's Queen of Indie Rock has entered my world. New to me, Claire Adams, performed solo early in the evening at Mercy Lounge last night. Normally I despise singer songwriters for their anemic disposition, but her song about Dylan's black book piqued my interest. Her demeaner was confident, not conceited. She never apologized for being on stage. A refreshing flavor in this town full of insipid parasites.Her band Six Gun Lullaby is releasing a record March 22nd at The End. Go there. Buy a CD. Support local music.
PS - Beth you'll always be queen of my heart.

Buyer Beware

No apologies, No bull, No commies. After 3 years of silence, I have returned. The American Dream reborn in blogger form. Weekly first person accounts from the barberous heart of Onug, Nascent Nashville.

Betty's Grill...$0.75 Natty Light anyone?