Let the dead bury their dead…

R. L. BurnsideThe immortal R. L. Burnside keeping time to the magic that was his music.  I couldn’t keep time to save my life, just listen to my singing and think of Steve Martin in The Jerk…no rhythm whatsoever.  Of well, I have no gifts to impart except maybe now just a big heart…hahahaha.  Nothing to pass on to my progeny except a tendency towards passive insanity and a propensity to get hooked on the hooch…sorry Son.  But that heart is right there on my sleeve, big sack of sap that I am…boohoo.  There is no greater lover of music than me, though, it’s been with me since the beginning and if they have a memorial of some kind for me, there will hopefully be music in the end.  Me dreams say that my demise will arise on the road, in a vehicle, so in that case chances are the tunes will jamming (unless my friend Darryl is driving, he prefers to do without the tunes).  The GIF is taken from the Alan Lomax vid for the tune See My Jumper Hanging On The Line, 1978 (which I’ve featured here before)…”fix my supper Lord let me go to bed, this white lightning done gone to my head.” The tune below, 20 years later, with the band, is beyond fucking cool…

IMG_0253Met up with this one of a kind human being up in his stomping grounds in the Fargo North Dakota area, a monstrous shout out to anybody that remembers Big Shawn, from the Humboldt days…a true Mustard Relic!  My good pal Darryl made the drive for me, as I just can’t stay awake on long drives anymore, cheers to him.  On Saturday we hit up an event in Fargo called Pangea, a sort of multicultural dance and food affair…very cool, all kinds of folks from around the world enjoying each other’s company and celebrating diversity.  The food was excellent, had me a plate that had foods from Denmark, Haiti, Liberia and Native America (Liberian hot sauce kicks ass).  Sunday was all about hanging out with Shawn and his wonderful wife Heather (another old Humboldt friend) at their pad across the river in Minnesota.  Cheers to them for hosting me (Darryl went up to Canada).  He may have planted the seeds of Warcraft in me, that’s a fun fucking game.  That night though it was all about the Slayer show, with headliners Phil H. Anselmo and the Illegals (they were alright, but didn’t get me toe tapping though), Ministry (with Sin the guitar player that I went to high school with…he doesn’t remember me though…hahhahha…they stole the show I thought) and Primus (Les Claypool is one of the most amazing guitar plays of our generation, but there is a such a thing as too much bass)…then the almighty Slayer (who played many songs I didn’t recognize before they finally got in to the first 3 albums, which is all I listen to…then it was all about Chemical Warfare, Angel of Death and this one that Shawn captured)…

Fortunately some soul out there recorded the Ministry set…

One thought on “Let the dead bury their dead…”

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