Texas is big. It’s mysterious. It’s wild. It’s independent. It’s renegade. It’s a place where misfits go to make art. But, during the summer it can be brutally hot. And apparently, the state has a power grid, not connected to any national grid, which might just shut down, if it’s too cold or too hot. And, it appears, Texas leads the country in radical-right craziness and conspiracy-driven thinking. It’s harsh in many ways and not as “down home friendly” as one might be led to believe. We have our ups and downs. People are also moving here, constantly, for a variety of reasons, probably for the “opportunities” Texas offers, whatever those might be.

For Denton, it means the homogenization of unique coolness and eradication of special locally owned businesses. Prime locations are just too expensive for small-timers. It’s nothing new or unexpected, but the blandness is accelerating, and it stings. And, of course, I’m hearing more about people who have moved to Texas who regret it. Our governor is obviously positioning himself to run for president, so he has doubled-down his appeal to the voter-suppression/anti climate-change/anti-vaxxer crowd, which defines Texas to a lot of folks. Pride is rarely positive, but Texas pride is often unbearable. Now, before I get a bunch of y’all all riled up, I love Texas. The potential I see is mind-blowing. This state has clout. It is physically huge and romantically huge. The Texas mystique is real. A lot of amazing things have happened within our borders, including some of the best music ever made anywhere and I’m not talking about Brave Combo. It’s a place which inspires and, I guess, can still dangle a carrot in front of wandering souls looking for authenticity and the meaning of life. I like living in a wild and wooly place, even as a long-time vegetarian/animal activist. For me, the whole vibe of Texas has been unlimited freedom of expression, as a musician and an artist. When Brave Combo first started it really did feel like anything goes, so let it rip. But the edges have been slowly whittled away by a permeating conservative mind-set. For a long time, the hippies were winning. Even on college campuses all over the state, the fraternities and sororities, God bless ‘em, took a serious back seat to the progressives. When I was in college, the Greeks were practically non-existent. They were contained. Groovy was everywhere. Not that this should be a goal for any downtown, but there was a hard-core X-rated movie theater right on the town square. And, yes, that’s really a terrible idea, but it speaks to true independence of the time. Creatively, anything could happen. And people were, generally, nicer, and way gentler. But there is no value in living in nostalgia and I am solidly in the “been there done that” camp. I have no desire to repeat the past. Even in our troubled times, I enjoy the challenge of maneuvering through the muck and mire. Life is about survival and how wily you are in that attempt. Surviving and thriving as an entertainer is tricky, at best. Figuring out how to grab someone’s attention when everything is so topsy-turvey is a much tougher game. Before I leave this fascinating explosion of words, I must admit that there are times when I have felt very protective and proud of my home state. Once we were on a train in Switzerland and a passenger overheard us talking and must have heard the word “Texas.” He stood up and wagged his finger at us and blamed us for killing Kennedy. I don’t remember how we responded to him. He might have been drunk. Lots of Europeans drink constantly, even more than Texans. But I do remember feeling like, “Hey, watch your mouth.” You can’t talk to Texans that way, even if there might be some truth to his accusation. Dallas didn’t prepare for Kennedy’s visit as well as it should have. That’s for sure. A lot of mistakes were made that day. But, on that train, in Switzerland, I was suddenly all about “Remember the Alamo!” To wrap up, I believe in the promise of Texas. I just want us to live up to it, FOR EVERYONE. Which means, if I’m open to helping the migrants at our southern border, I have to be accepting of people moving here from Oklahoma and Louisiana, too. Maybe we should put up signs at every entrance to the state which says something like, “If you are a nice person, come on in. If you are a scallywag, turn around or just quickly pass through.” Almost no one wants to be known as a scallywag, unless you’re a professional wrestler or a member of a punk band, which doesn’t really exist anymore.

Speaking of music, Brave Combo is a band. And this a band newsletter, sorta, in case you forgot. We actually go out and play music for people and are starting to carefully dip our toes back into the live music pond, soon to be a lake, then an ocean. We have played a couple of big shows recently and all has gone swimmingly. It feels a little weird, but at least we’re on a stage most of the time we’re at a gig, with blots of space around us. I don’t know how it feels to be in the crowd out front. You know, it’s almost normal, but really, not close, yet. How could it be? All of us have been traumatized, to some degree, by the pandemic and the over-politicization of it. Jeez, what a great time to undermine science, huh? But there is always a new normal popping up. Even without the pandemic the chances of a new adult movie theater on the downtown square in Denton would be pretty slim. So, bands and musicians always must adjust to the times, just like everyone else. It looks like the concept of virtual shows finally has a foothold on the psyche of the public, which is fantastic. People liked them and now that we’re all familiar with the idea and not scared of it, some cool things are bound to emerge. Every band realized its potential reach. Why wouldn’t this continue with gusto. Not everyone can make it to our show at Rubber Gloves on July the 30th with our friends, the Wee Beasties. But if we stream it, and I guarantee several people involved know how to make that happen, we could perform for ten times as many fans; a hundred times, perhaps. As this technology gets easier and easier and more user-friendly, the dream of actually playing for a world-wide audience becomes reality.

Okay, I am tired of rambling and it’s time to dispense tape worm medicine to several cats. Please check our itinerary often. Last-minute shows could pop up overnight and, once September arrives, Brave Combo gets super busy again for a few months. There will be lots and lots of chances for you to see and hear what the fuss is all about. And, if you don’t live near us, just hop on a plane. The friendly skies are back. Well, not really. Planes have turned into rowdy kindergartens, but you would probably live through it. I wish you peace, happiness, and good times!

Okay, I know everyone is sick of this topic. But seriously, if you love music, and live music, in particular, or theater or fine art events or sports or movies or anything which involves people gathering to experience and enjoy the creative efforts of your fellow humans, presented in community environments, please get vaccinated. You don’t have to be in the grip of so much fear. You don’t have to be hiding in the darkness of conspiracies and cults. Almost no good ever comes from a bunch of freaked-out folks who are ready to blame everything and anything for the shortcomings in their own lives. If people are joined together by common grievances and no one is ever offering logical solutions, it’s probably a good idea to find some new friends; some people who will, at least, point out the value of science. I guess it’s just too easy if there’s simply not enough worthwhile stuff going on in one’s life, to follow the laziest path and look for answers in obviously stupid places. It is super easy to place one’s butt in front of the computer or to pick up one’s phone, pretty much anytime, anywhere, and let all the available random “valuable” info fill one’s brain and get one all riled-up. This takes very little physical or mental effort, yet the reward is immediate and fulfilling, like sugar or heroin. In fact, this is the easiest way to avoid actual enlightenment, as one feels only empty “a-ha” moments. Whatever, I didn’t mean to veer from my original directive. Just go get the shot or shots. Jeez, they’re available everywhere now. Your excuses can only be ignorance or selfishness. You are either too dumb or too uncaring of others. A healthy community is the only way art and music and entertainment can exist for the masses. Don’t deny this to others. Don’t be a scaredy cat! I live with a few real scaredy cats, so I know of what I speak. If you come to my house, please don’t move too quickly, don’t talk too loudly, and don’t make any sudden movements! A couple of our cats can’t even handle us carrying a large box into a room. Yet, those same cats think it’s just fine to chase each other through the house at lightning speed anytime they want, occasionally breaking things. I’m talking to you Spot and Dot!

When I was in the 7th or 8th grade a friend asked me if I would be interested in forming a band with three other guys. This was at the request of a man named Mr. Kitchens. I don’t know where Mr. Kitchens came from or how my friend knew him, but this didn’t sound like a rock band. The only other kid I can remember being involved was my friend, Larry Head, who played flute. And Mr. Kitchens wasn’t interested in me playing guitar or piano. He wanted me to play French Horn. So, Larry and I showed up at Mr. Kitchens’ house one afternoon, with our flute and French Horn and there were two other guys there who I think I did know, but just can’t remember. And I don’t remember what instruments they played. So, there were us four young boys gathered at Mr. Kitchen’s house. He looked pretty old and said a few things. Then told us he wanted form a group of young musicians who would play songs like, “Red Roses for a Blue Lady.” I believe he had sheet music for everyone. It was a bad idea. Squarer than square and damn bizarre. At that point my interest completely drained, and I realized I was just in a weird man’s house and wanted out. I’ll never know what Mr. Kitchens’ true motives were. Was he a musical visionary or just a dirty old man? Could have been either or both.

In the earliest days of Brave Combo, we got to know many famous rock music journalists of the day. Most of them lived in New York, Chicago, or Los Angeles. But, through working with Joe King Carrasco’s manager, Joe Nick Patoski, I met Ed Ward, who was living in Austin and was the main music writer/critic for the Austin American-Statesman. He liked Brave Combo and once or twice invited us to his house to eat some hot food. Over the years we would touch base, and he even took us on a private tour of East Berlin while he lived in Germany, working for The Wall Street Journal. Indeed, Ed was gruff and loud and overtly opinionated, but he always made me laugh and I got a few chuckles out of him, too. I guess you know where this is going. Ed died recently. As I’m writing this, I don’t know the reason for his death. I heard he was alone, at home. His support in the early days of Brave Combo, along with other writers/critics, like Joe Nick, Lester Bangs, Kurt Loder, and John Morthland, helped us tremendously in our attempts to reach wider audiences and I deeply appreciate it. RIP, Ed!

As I’ve mentioned before, Brave Combo is starting to play a little, here and there, and most of the venues are outdoors. However, about mid-August, our calendar goes full-on and we will back to playing 2-4 times a week until early November. Then I anticipate a crazy December. I must admit, I haven’t hated living with almost no serious obligations for over a year. I’ve enjoyed waking up day after day without thinking about gig issues and details. A lot goes into a Brave Combo show and a lot depends on us being reliable. We gotta deliver the goods and it can be stressful. Although I don’t like cleaning litter boxes, it’s been nice to have that be the big obligation of the day. And, like you, I have to face the fact that I didn’t make as many home improvements that I’d planned and now my abundant free time is about to dwindle. Long-distance touring won’t happen for a while, but if you don’t live near Texas and you must get your BC fix, come on down. The calendar will soon be full of options and it’s a lot easier for you to come to us than vice-versa. And you know we’re worth it!

As you emerge from your cocoon, keep Brave Combo in mind. And, believe it or not, the future is brighter than you might think! And don’t forget to, occasionally, laugh at the insanity.