August 10th, 2008 07:12pm
skeeter
A lot of folks envy artists. They wish they could drag an easel down to the beach, set up an umbrella, sip a tall cool drink, maybe capture the sunset sparkle off patterned waves. Commune with nature and that sweet inner child they think lives in pre-pubescent bliss back there in the basement of their brain.
Us musicians know better. We drag an instrument down to some dark tavern and play to folks who’d rather be watching big screen TV. We guzzle chep beer and 2nd hand smoke and try to play over the din and dreariness. And that inner child? Lemme tell ya, he’s a pissed off kid following behind you like a punk with a stick dragging on a picket fence. Keep your nerves forever on edge.
This next song, listen for the stick raking that fence.
August 10th, 2008 07:10pm
skeeter
We want to thank Art by the Bay for NOT succumbing to public pressure to rename this event. So what if it’s not really by a bay? It’s by a school that’s named after a bay. Close enuff for me.
We’re the South End String Band. I’m gonna confess right up front some of us don’t live on the South End. And some of us don’t play strings. And, okay, some of us don’t live on the South End OR play strings.
Personally I’ve never really believed in Truth in Advertising. Sort of an oxymoron, you ask me. Like military intelligence or plastic glasses. Truth in Adverising, gimme a break….
So here’s a song for Art by the School that’s Named After a Bay by the South End String Band which probably couldn’t find the South End on a sunny day with an onboard GPS…..
July 6th, 2008 02:49pm
skeeter
July 6th, 2008 02:48pm
skeeter
You all probably heard about the Wild Child we had on the South End, some 15 year old kid who broke into our houses, stole our laptops and credit cards and sense of security, who made himself right to home. For about half a year he evaded SWAT teams and sheriff’s posses and vigilante watchdogs, sort of a Jesse James of the nettle forests.
For awhile it got to be Big News. TV crews rolled in, mobile units broadcast from the South Grange and the Visitor Center. You’d’ve thought Bonnie and Clyde had drove in from the 30’s, holed up at the Tyee Alamo and were holdin off Eliot Ness and 100 G-men. The South End was suddenly famous.
The Band was gonna write the Ballad of Coltin Moore, teenage desperado, outfoxin the sheriff’s department and terrorizing the citizens of O-Zi-Ya and Mabana. Al Capone with zits, Pretty Boy Floyd barefootin in the ravines, Machine Gun Kelly with bear strength pepper spray.
Like I say, we thought about helping make this kid a Legend. Probably end up with a hit single, sell a million copies, create a role model for the entire Stanwood High School, you know, supplant rock and roll stars and basketball millionaires with fellow adolescent malcontents.
We’d have a woods full of angst ridden wannabees, breedin like rabbits back up the hollers, helping themselves to vacant homes and wine cellars, orderin upscale supplies off the internet with stolen identities, barkin at the moon at night in wild Baccahanlias, refusing to surrender, refusing to go back to Normal existence, refusing the American Dream reality….. And that’s when the Band realized, we got too many artists and musicians ALREADY livin like that down here, we don’t need an overpopulation competin with us. So instead, we wrote this next song: The Ballad of Coltin Moore, Attorney at Law, rehabbed and ready to make an honest livin. Goes like this rightchere.
July 6th, 2008 02:47pm
skeeter
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