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You're out Tom...
Filed under: Imported
Alchemy
Let me first apologize to the members of Ol' Yeller and Big Ditch Road. I didn't make it to the Nomad World Cafe, because I was over at Louie's Lee's Liquor Lounge watching The Fucking Gleam.
Unfortunately, The Goddamned Gleam is the best band in Minneapolis right now. I hate to delve into the sacrilegous waters of Hennepinosity, but, during a week in which we bid a fond farewell to one of the most kick-ass bassists in anyone's recent memory, it's comforting to know that there's a band in town that really couldn't give 3 shits.
What I really hate about The Goddamned Gleam is fishing. I've spent a few weeks scouring the waters of Chisago County for "all the right fish," in a never ending battle between me and that bastard Poseidon. The worst thing that could have happened to me was to hook into a band, one act play, or circus sideshow that embodied that dynamic. Unfortunately (note, that's twice I've used that word), there's a band that embodies all three.
Look, I don't want to doll this all up. This ain't Pavarotti at the Met. This is the sudden realization that it's Sunday, you've dropped half a paycheck on an ice house, and all you've caught is an eelpout. But, it was a state record eelpout, so anybody who questions how you spent your weekend can get fucked.
Dear Bill,
I know you live in Austin, Texas, where talented musicians write catchy songs and all, and the clubs are filled with "National" acts wowing the local intelligensia with their Twang doctorates.
But, goddamn Bill, these three guys are retarded. This band makes no sense. And yet, they drive a nail into the heart of the American experience. What an absolute waste of an evening. I'm ashamed I went.
Greil Marcus, you suck, you know why? You don't have a copy of The Chisago County EP, and I do. Get with the program, Top Ten Boy.
--El Platano Blanco
Posted by Jack Sparks at June 25, 2005 2:21 AM
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