Volume 6 – #7 – July 2003
Summer 2003. Hard work. Brave Combo’s life has changed dramatically this year. We all have shorter fuses, but everything is more interesting. We’re flying almost everywhere, which means we don’t have a Donut (our bus/van thing) full of our own equipment. All I carry with me is a guitar, on my back (I don’t check it), and two accordions, which I do check. When we get to the venue, a guitar amplifier (pot luck) and a keyboard (more pot luck) are provided. Bubba’s amp is provided, as is Alan’s drum kit. We’re streamlined and grooving on faith, Baby! It’s not easier now; it just takes less time. But things are potentially a lot more complicated and the chance of something screwing up is pretty high. We try to minimize the question marks, but they’re always there. On the up side, I’m having a good time burning out. Everything really continues to be a matter of perspective and attitude. Our opportunities have never been more varied or plentiful. I’m very grateful that people all over the United States and in some foreign countries are still curious about the frequently dysfunctional five-headed beast known as Brave Combo. Let’s party down!
Meeting and hanging out with interesting characters is a big plus for being on the road. Roky Ericson came out to a recent gig in Austin. He was the leader of the legendary Texas psychedelic band, The 13th Floor Elevators. Their sound was quite unique in that every song featured an electric jug. He’s been in retirement for decades, but I’ve heard he might be re-emerging. At our show in Cleveland, Ohio (July 3), comic book writer, Harvey Pekar came out with a big smile on his face and brought his family. He even danced. If you’re not familiar with Harvey, his comic book is called AMERICAN SPLENDOR and a new movie about his life, also called AMERICAN SPLENDOR, will be released in mid-August. It won some major award at the Sundance Film Festival and promises to be thought provoking, at least. Harvey is so real it hurts, but that’s his appeal. He also writes music articles for a Cleveland entertainment magazine and he did a pre-show review of our CD, BOX OF GHOSTS. I guess he liked it. Legendary blues musician and harmonica wizard, James Harmon, kissed my shoe after our show in at the Zoo Bar Anniversary Festival in Lincoln, Nebraska on July 11. He apologized for waiting 20 years to see us. On the Fourth of July we were at the Polka Fireworks festival in beautiful Seven Springs, Pennsylvania. We were sandwiched between big time Polish-style polka heavy weights, The Brass Connection and The Versatones. This was hard-core intense. There we were, in a big bright ballroom, unsure of ourselves, in front of 2000 polka fanatics that prefer a very specific style. Cool, huh? The floor was so packed with curious onlookers, that there was no room for anyone to dance. We played. They stared. And they clapped and screamed. I have never felt so much love and acceptance at a show. So many polka music stars were there, that our minds were truly boggled and it was a total gas to meet them all. I thanked everyone for their tolerance and open minds. We played a festival concert with They Might Be Giants in Greenfield, Massachusetts on July 19 and were flattered beyond words when the two Giant Johns told us that we were an early influence on them. They saw us at Danceteria in New York City in 1981. They are witty guys and we talked about doing a tour together next year. I actually know their agent, so this could happen. I think we’re a perfect match. Fellow Texans, The Asylum Street Spankers, were performing at the same festival. Band member, Wammo, and I found a few minutes to visit and catch up and exchange energy. Okay, I’ve dropped enough names for one newsletter. Our journey through the wilderness continues.
Actually, I’m gonna drop one more name. Please forgive me, but you’ll want to know about this. There’s something brewing with Matt Groening and a future episode of THE SIMPSONS. I don’t want to say anymore until it’s etched in stone, but it’s a 99% sure-fire happening deal. I’ll confirm next month or not mention it again.
Two sad notes. A neighborhood musician died last month. His name was Walt and he was a blues guitarist. I would often hear him playing his guitar and thought that we would meet someday. His wife walked their little black dog faithfully and I watched his daughter grow up, but I regret that I never made the effort to introduce myself. You know, there’s always tomorrow. Or, so I thought. And, a Japanese accordionist that I saw many times in Tokyo died last month as well. His name was Kenji and he practically worshipped me. He taught himself to play Tejano style, formed Los Gatos, an all-Japanese conjunto, played the Conjunto Festival in San Antonio and eventually moved to Texas to pursue his dream. Last year he developed cancer and I heard about it and had every intention of seeing him. When I learned that his condition was getting worse and that he had moved back to Japan, I planned to email or call. I know he would have appreciated it a lot. I didn’t reach him in time. This is almost unbearable. Don’t wait until tomorrow.
On a much lighter note, I love my dogs and cat. Cookie is an aging, almost deaf beagle/shepard mix. Freckles is a jeolous bird dog/pointer mix with a rare gum disease. Dolly is a total wreck. She’s a black spitz with so many unfortunate qualities. Dudley is a big muscular easygoing brindle-coated bird dog/greyhound mix that might pee in the house. Augie, the baby of the bunch, is a chow/spaniel mix with a severe under bite. Biscuits, the longhaired tabby cat, is very timid around strangers, but he’s a good masseuse. Obviously, these are all rescued animals. They’ve been spayed or neutered. They will not reproduce!
Speaking of the wonder of reproduction, I’ve heard that you’re selfish if you don’t want children and I’ve heard you’re selfish if you do want children. Which is correct?
Well, little pardners, we’re still touring like crazy and may be performing near you soon. Please check out our itinerary. As I look at the calendar, I see many festivals, clubs, concerts and parties in the coming months. If we look tired, tell us. And we’ll either perk up or look at you like you’re a jerk. Whatever, we need to know, so it’s worth the risk. My life has been so trying lately (Did any of you ever doubt that a part of my soul is quite tortured?), yet I’m amazed at how things fall together. We really want to be good and we really want to live up to expectations. It’s a long dusty trail. But sometimes it’s gold dust and sometimes it’s magical pixie dust. And even if it’s just regular dust, it still might have some minerals in it. I was looking at the full moon the other night and thought, “You’re a beautiful ball and my heart is so wild. Let’s find truth the hardest way we can.” If you have insomnia, make it a good thing. For the rest of you, pleasant dreams.