Setting the World on Fire and Fried Potatoes
HEY HEY HEY
I'ma sitting in a Denny's because I couldn't be at home anymore. I've been home ALL DAY. The Stir, it goddamn crazes. Now, the season fries, they go in my mouth, as does the coffee, and the Goddamn Gallows. Ok, the Gallows is in mine ears, but let us not be particular about our orfices. Especially with these fellas.
I have had a helluva weekend, that started somewhat early.
1. World Inferno Friendship Society and O'Death at Reggie's on Thursday
O'Death sounds like the lunatic quintent you'd find playing ballads and bonkers in an ill-advisedly placed carnival in a broken down holler church gravel lot. They are fucking nuts. They are goddamn sincere. They are shit I want to hear. They make me stomp. They are like Man Man meets Calexico, add in unexpected breakdowns, metal tendencies, bleak tales, murder ballads, unexpected poignant moments of mortality and the weight of 2oo years of American hill music...and that's O'Death. Seriously, smalls. They take their name from the traditional dirge "Oh Death," as made famous by Ralph Stanley. That's some balls. That song is the most important song to originate from Southern Appalachia. Balls.
The last time I saw them, it was at Muddy Roots in Tennessee, under a tent, at night, with a wild pit. Reggie's was a bit more subdued...but that seems to be because Chicago doesn't know how to fucking dance. I don't normally advocate boozing the goddamn hell up, but shit, I wish Chicago would tip back enough to loosen its feet. At least there was a mini pit going on behind me. Yes, behind me. Of course I was dancing at the front railing.
Here. Have some good times:
Click to viewAnd goddamn, this is a pretty one:
Start with their newest album, 2011's Outside.
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And World Inferno...World Inferno I have spoken with you about in previous glowings. Have you seen them yet? I love the beautiful freak anarchist lot of them. I started the show dancing on some risers to the right of the stage with my friend J, but hell, me and Ms. J had to get down with much more...swaying, crazy and skanking....and you can't go nutso dancing high up on cement step constructions. So it was a hop down and go to town with Frankenmonster and other company.
2. But I did not by any means feel like shit the whole weekend. In fact, I had a badass time at Reverend Peyton's Big Damn Band at Bottom Lounge on Saturday night.
It was a hella late show. Started at midnight. M was there.
Backtrack:
Reverend Peyton's Big Damn Band is a Southern Indiana country and blues band. Rev. Peyton on guitar, harmonica and vox, Breezy - his badass wife - on washboard and and Aaron Persinger on drums (one of which was a 5-gallon bucket). Breezy proves that the washboard is not only an important instrument, but a fucking sexy one. She lit that shit on fire. No. Really. I mean that. I ain't joking. She lit her fucking washboard on fire and played the flames out. WTF? I know. BADASS. And Peyton, goddamn, he's got everything from slide guitar to cigar box guitars going for him.
Get you some:
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3. And then I wrote.
Yes. I am writing again. I am on a frikkin writing tear, in fact.
9 pages today. Novel stuff.
That shit is getting done. It's gotta. I got other stories to tell.
....
Oh yeah, here are those Fried Potatoes.