← June 2003 | Main | August 2003 →
July 30, 2003
Turn Your Radio On
I’ve been to Marfa and I liked it pretty much. I like West Texas in general. Marfa was fun; it had an old movie theater with stars all over the outside, a cool old hotel called the Paisano where a lot of the cast of “Giant” stayed while they were making the movie, a big bell that some convict had shot to pieces with a gun because, according to him, liberty was dead in Marfa, and a fantastic art museum. But the best thing it had was the Marfa Lights, and I saw them. There are all sorts of explanations for what they might be, from electrostatic discharge to ghosts, from radioactive bursts to ball lightning, to navigational lights for space aliens. Some even claim that they’re the spirits of conquistadors, looking for gold. Me, I think they’re nothing more than swamp gas, which, incidentally, is the name of a not-terrible song by the inimitable Screamin’ Jay Hawkins.
Anyway, now Marfa has something new and wonderful, something maybe even better than the Marfa Lights, something that might enable you to hear some Screamin’ Jay, and that’s Radio Free Marfa.
Posted by pogo at 12:33 PM | Comments (8) | TrackBack
July 25, 2003
See No Evil
Who: Your humble narrator, absolutely dour at the prospect of being at work today
Where: Barton Springs Blvd, 7:57 this a.m, rounding the corner from south Lamar and passing the Peter Pan Mini Golf.
The Sound: “Rabbit Fighter” by T. Rex (just for the extra absurdity of it)
What the sign at the mini golf place read: “Happy Birthday, Satan.”
It helped a little.
Posted by pogo at 07:02 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
July 16, 2003
Honey, Ain’t No Woman Like A Southern Girl
Also totally rocking my world is the Gossip’s “Movement” which came out a few months ago. They’re another one of those bands whose records I heard before I ever saw them live and thought, “Meh. Another lo-fi, poorly recorded garage band based in sloppy blues. Like there aren’t enough of those.” And then I saw them live and was totally blown away. The Gossip are one of the best live bands I’ve ever seen. Beth Fucking Ditto is a tiger. Her voice soars, it’s transcendent and sanctified. And she knows her shit, knows her roots, and stands her ground and sasses right back at it, with just the proper amounts of both reverence and impudence. She makes no apologies. She has a tiny tattoo of the state of Arkansas, where the whole band hails from, at the small of her back. She’s got a voice that wails like church, like hot, tarred summer pavement, like a Marlboro Red bummed from a stranger at a late night field party, like lemonade with more than a touch of bourbon. These songs are full of the back roads I spent my adolescence on, full of flooded rivers and mosquito bites, shitty jobs and big dreams, moaning and wailing and howling at midnight. This girl’s voice sends me, I mean damn.
And they’re on tour now.
Posted by pogo at 04:31 PM | TrackBack
July 15, 2003
When the Night Has Come Like Music to Surround You
Remember all that bunkum I was prattling on about a few months ago about not hearing new music that electrified me like the songs of my misspent youth? You can disregard all that hooey. I’ve heard the new Clientele record, and you should too. I think “Missing” is one of the most unblemished, splendid songs I’ve heard in a long, long time.
I should also give a shout out to Chris here because not only is it his birthday, but also, if it weren’t for him I never would have given the Clientele a second and third chance. Chris likes Wain Cat and a proper spot of tea.
Posted by pogo at 08:36 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
July 11, 2003
Red Dirt Girl
This morning when I woke up for work, I was so tired, bleary-eyed and hungover from celebrating Hoss’ birthday last night that I didn’t know what to do with myself. My hair was stinky, but sleep was way more important. My solution? I showered, got dressed, sprayed my hair down with Febreeze and climbed back into bed for fifteen more minutes of delicious sleep.
Yes, I Febreezed my hair. And I’m not ashamed. Just a little giggly about it.
In more important news, I’ve still not been fired, so I guess the job is going ok, excepting the fact that it makes me tired and boring. But when I close my eyes, all I see is flowers. It’s alright.
Posted by pogo at 06:31 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
July 03, 2003
I Touch Roses
So, I started a new job, and it’s … alright. I’ve gone back to doing floral design. I don’t hate it and I don’t love it. I can’t tell yet if it’s going to, um, work out.
Today got off to a lousy start and I almost had a little crying jag. Instead, I decided to have lunch. When I came back, we had to start getting stuff ready for this weekend’s wedding. So this afternoon, I had the distinct pleasure of destroying ten corsage bags’ worth of multi-colored roses, carefully tearing each petal off, placing them in a giant glass bowl and misting them with water and then combining them so all the hues were well-mixed. Rolling my hands around in velvety-soft, sweet-smelling flower petals for almost an entire afternoon. It’s not so bad, really. And then we closed early. And I drove home in almost no traffic listening to my favorite Fall song. And tomorrow there will be fireworks, sleeping late and Lone Star Beer.
I wish it could always be like this.