Sunday, February 26, 2012


The day began early, with the sun rise. It was mid- winter in Mississippi and Kevin awoke in the small hut he was living in. He looked out upon the gently cotton fields through his pane-less window. He sat down to play his harmonica. It was a typical Sunday- but not for long. At nine O’clock there was a knock on the door. It was a turtle wearing a top hat and a bow tie. He croaked in an ancient language that Kevin somehow understood.  He told Kevin that he must set out on a great journey- first to the darkest jungles of South America where he must find a secret witch-doctor, then to the treacherous Rocky Mountains of Colorado where he must find a hidden chapel wherein lies the Grail. The turtle’s name was Joe Turse. 

Kevin had just made coffee and he told the turtle that he was quite happy staying in his cabin with his wood stove and harmonica. But the turtle told him that this journey was very important, and that the fate of humanity depended on it.  He knew that the turtle was right and he must leave what was familiar to him and set off on this great adventure.  He packed a handkerchief tied to a muddy stick with his most essential possessions and climbed on the shell of the turtle. They rode south, and Kevin bid a fond farewell to Mississippi. 

It was 11am when they entered the darkest jungle of South America. They hacked their way through the brush and leaves. They got lost. They were attacked by head-hunting giant wasp people.  They were just about to give up hope when the turtle heard a wild song in the distance. They went towards it and saw the witch-doctor! She was dressed up in a gown of moon and stars, wearing the sun as her crown, and had a cape of swirling medicinal jungle leaves. She saw them and said “My name is Kris! I have been waiting for you! Hurry- we must go to the Rocky Mountains. There is no time to lose. We must find the Grail by 4pm today!”  They both climbed on the turtle shell and rode north.  It was 1pm when they saw the great Rocky Mountains rise up out of the endless plains. They knew they were almost to the chapel. 

But first they had to pass through the great Junkland which is a very treacherous and desolate wasteland full of all the dreams that humankind abandoned when they became adults. They had to face the guardian of Junkland. For a while they saw and  heard nothing except for piles of trash. Then they started to hear rhythms in the junk. Kris said ‘That’s the Junk Master! He’s casting spells…” The beats were so cyclical and poly-rhythmic that the group just stood there, transfixed.  Joe called out “Show yourself, Junkmaster!” and soon he emerged from a pile of scrap metal.  “My name is Carl!“, The Junkmaster said. He had 10 arms, each holding some article of junk.  He spoke in rhythms that were so sick and insane that the group almost dissolved into anti-matter- until Kris started singing some gorgeous earthy syllables spun out in tape delay. She asked him to join the adventure, and he was happy to. Thus, they rode on. 

They approached Denver. Now the turtle stopped and said- “We must now go into the Warehouse, where there is an enchanted soul trapped in a forgotten statue… we must bring him to life!”  Inside it was dark and the shadows were long and creepy. They saw the statue.  It was just a silhouette between two blazing chandeliers. They approached it and the Junkmaster started casting his rhythmic spells. Kris Drickey started summoning up all kinds of pagan dieties through her voice, and Kevin started swirling in frenetic harmonica wails. In just a minute or two, the statue came to life. He said his name was David, and he didn’t really know that he had been a statue for the last 6 millenea.   He thought he had simply fallen asleep whilst composing a gypsy  symphony with no beginning or end.   

With David now awake, the party was complete and they set off to find the chapel. This was the hardest thing to do because it was hidden in the depths of the blandest suburbia of Broomfield. It was 2pm when they finally found it. They stood in the ancient temple and marveled at its marvels. At about 3pm, other enchanted and wandering souls filled the room. They all began casting their spells together- everyone in the room. All of the music and energy they created formed a ladder. When they climbed it, they saw that the Grail was actually a moment in time, something that they could all make together. So they made it and drank from it and it was so sweet. We’ve saved a little sip here in this CD. Hope you enjoy!

(ladder) now available for download

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Were you sent to me?

Goodbye Janny.

5 minutes before the first song I was frantically searching for the harmonica holder.  Must be in the gear closet.  Nope.  Hmmm... food table?  No luck.  Oh wait!  I had it in the kitchen when Greg and Steve came in.  Yes!  It’s there on the microwave.  Time to start the show.  The chapel is full of good friends, family, Joe and the fam, our gracious hosts.  The rest is a blur.  

Welcome to Febby.

Sunday we pulled into Crestone. The experience has been just as unpredictable as we expected.  A month ago we booked a gig at The Laughing Buddha, and planned to rent a cabin from the manager. That's all that was planned. We figured we'd call when we got to town. Electrum Amor. Of course, we didn't have her number- but no big deal. We saw it on a banner as soon as we pulled into town. We called, left a message, waited. It was getting cold, there was no one around, and we had no where to go. We asked an old man with a box of doughnuts if he knew Electrum. He said he did! He said that she's in Hawaii and won't be back for a week. But- Shirley tends bar at the Laughing Buddha, so she might know what to do. She also works for Century 21, he said, and if we wanted her number we can go walk around and look for her real estate signs. Then he told us that there is a yard full of yurts that Electrum rents out, and we should just go knock on doors until we find one that's not occupied, then move in. Then he told us that his name is Grandfather Peter Coyote and the doughnuts he was carrying were made by God. We ate some.

We went into the yard with the yurts. Knocked on one door- opened it- saw an unmade bed. Knocked on another door. It was answered by a tough lady. I told her about our predicament. She asked ‘were you sent to me?’ I told her I was sent by intuition because I was just knocking on doors at random. Then she told me that if I
was sent to her, it's because she's in charge of enforcing the noise ordinance. She was the guardian of the Decibel Level. She went on to say that the decibel level before 10pm can be up to 65, but after 10pm it can't be louder than 55. There have been 4 complaints, she said, and now there will have to be a court date. Furthermore, she said, there should be one yurt open that we could move into without any reservation or communication with anyone! We thanked her for her time and her odd message about decibel levels and we moved into the yurt.

Later... In the hostel in Santa Fe.  This guy keeps talking about outer space.  “Just send 50 people to the moon.  I’m telling ya, we only need 50.  Tell each and every kid in school that there are 50 people living on the moon.  See what that does!  we could explore the frontier together!  Bet you didn’t know we have to rely on the Russians to get to the space station.  How fucked up is that?”

Back to the simple challenges of life on the road.  Grumpy is my least favorite dwarf.  Last night we pulled into town without a clue where to go.  We were met with the news that our hostess is in Hawaii.  Grandpa Peter Coyote gave us donuts.  The lady yelled at us about decibels.  We moved into a yurt without asking.  Bought whiskey from a closed-off lady.  Then 3 things happened at once:  David made a big move in our ritual Rummy game, our fish and chips arrived, and we were given our palace.  We had to work for it, but it came eventually.

We've been holding up in the San Luis Valley for 5 days now! It's so expansive that I forget that I even exist. It apparently used to be the edge of an inland sea. We've been swimming around in our Beige minivan- who is named either Beige-ing, or Beige-a-vu, or Beige-against-the-machine.

The inland sea is a dry desert now and has been filled with people for quite sometime.  Back in ‘30’s Steve’s grandfather would go to Chicago to bring bands into the valley.  One time he told Lawrence Welk that they weren’t worth the money they were asking for.  He would drop thousands of fliers from a crop duster - over Alamosa, Monte Vista, Del Norte.  One flier was printed on both sides, whoever found it got into the show for free.  

Gillian Welch- "Down Along the Dixie Line". Patrick Lee- “The Pound.” . Flook- "Flatfish". Mount Kimbie- "Carbonated". James Blake; "Klavierwerk". Sam Cooke- "Mean Old World". Robert Plant and Allison Krauss- "Your Long Journey". Red Stick Ramblers “Made in the Shade”  Science Partner - "Rocky Mountain News"   The new Clouds and Mountains EP.  

We played at the Salida Cafe on Friday. It's always inspiring to see Clark. Saturday we played at Wildwood Sounds in Del Norte- a concert series run by Steve and Konnie- Catmosphere! 

It doesn’t have to be a struggle.  It can be effortless.  It’s like, over and over again learning the same lessons.

Meanwhile I am waiting and watching and planning.  This town =  weathered faces + vibrant eyes.  Settle down long enough to find the part of you that’s been running.  Follow the Grandpa Coyote call to the bottom of  a canyon where you can find hot springs and the winged serpent basking on the rock.  We lock eyes only so that infinity will show herself.  I wish I knew how to get into the closed-off places.

Now here we sit at the Lotus Cafe. Sipping coffee. Kris forgot her computer so she is staring contemplatively. I know what she's thinking though. She's thinking about how we cooked breakfast pizzas- open faced omelettes with cheese, salsa, broccoli, spinach, avocado. She's thinking about how we ate roasted sweet potatoes with red coconut curry sauce. She's thinking about how we should blog more often. You never know who is out there with some free time, wanting to read this stuff!  She's right, you know.

We just passed a UFO watchtower.  I’m glad someone is watching for such things.  Seems like an important job.  I’d like to catch one of these waves and stay with it for a very long time.

You deserve all good things.  And so it shall be!  Hooray, the boys are back with coffee and garlic!