onwards over water and under sunset, with glowing Gorgeous faces building our swarm, toward gates, concrete, Sand, and stage. (geez, i’ve already Lied to you!)

here’s where i tell you about the opening bands… … … and then Miss Kansas grabbed my hands, screaming that she could read Palms. my left Palm was duly presented, but our previously gleeful relationship turned Sour as she gazed at me with terror, whispering “i dont want to read your Future no more”. i asked her if something Horrible was going to happen, and in all serious and uncontrollable meekness she replied Yes. with Giggles and Smiles i said “maybe it has Already happened.” “No,” she said, “it hasn’t.” she kept repeating “i’m so sorry” and stumbled Away.

Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros are a Tribe out on a desert Plateau Celebrating some secret nighttime happenings that we can only guess at…but the Invitation stands and so do we, arms above shooting out into the sky, Wild dancing, singing, and bodies. Jade is Maniacal and Stewart (the trumpeter) is encouraging the Pandemonium. this Abraxas inspired beach scene ends abruptly – orderly folks Vanquishing their previously Chaotic alter egos for ferry rushing body motion.

but Alex, walking out into a now thinning crowd, beckons us to Sit Down with him. after few respond he says, “tomorrow morning you’re gonna say, man i wish i was One of the Ones who sat down,” as if we had burst into his living room to find him lazing on his Rocking Chair, sipping scotch, and gently offering us the opposing seat…with this Invitation we are all in it together, sitting around him on the concrete, as he weeps out ‘Brother’. he says goodnight but doesn’t leave – it’s his Home and he has offered his Companionship until the come down is complete.

and then we began our own Glazey stretch back to Brooklyn, echoes of Prince and the late night postspectacularglow Revelers teasing my perpetual dance syndrome. bellows of Who Do You Love? (i gotta wide brimmed hat with black wire, i gotta ship full of gas on sun fire…), a late night last call mid ferry ride Partially pathetic rendition of American Pie (with Mike Kern tagging along via voicemail), and then the streets betrayed my saning Mind (don’t worry, it was Mutual.)

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a lunatic thin man ran down the street with a suitcase above his head, screaming his ancient barbarian warcry. before slamming full speed into the SUV in front of us his body halted, and his arms waled the suitcase into the car’s side. he picked up his load and smashed it again and again, then the suitcase was on the ground and he was off around the corner squealing with glee.

i moseyed over to investigate – no damage but a scene far more perilous: a spiderman-clad rickshaw driver (walker?, pusher?) was pulling two chortling girls as replacements for our mysterious warrior. as i approached, he let them down and became enamored with the suitcasewielding soldier story.

meanwhile one of the girls took his place and was carriaging her friend away. i guess he saw tips and i saw two women, as we rushed over the pusher saw divine promise in suddenly letting go of her charge and having her friend’s skull hurtle back towards earth. now the rickshaw was kinda open in the back and her head almost splattered into the concrete – an inch and a bit of cushion saved her – but this peril was no peril to these two – up and onwards and then whipping back down to the street in another near collision. i argued but why should they care? back i went to the bar, and off the girls went like Didi and Gogo (or maybe more like two variants of Lucky with our Spiderman enshrined Pozzo pretending to direct them).

what horrors or heavens launched these folks down our tiny street, and would the evening’s descent into morning finally evaporate my midnight eidolons?

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thanks everybody who came out to check out the new band. and send me your pictures [evan@evanhammer.com] – i’ll add them to the set.

click to see the entire flickr album: The Baobabs at Local 269 (July 2010)

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2009.05.01 – night 1

i act like a monkey
and can’t control myself,
orange tulip petals on everything.

i burnt down the brooklyn bridge
then climbed up the charred concrete remains
and read ginsberg’s kaddish from the top,
but i got bored after one line and stopped.

the mississippi can’t make up her mind.
why won’t she die already?
ryan adams can go fuck himself.

i miss sitting in the center seat of the canoe,
i miss slow mornings that last for weeks.

what if i lose my fingers or my precious feet!
some girl’s eyes make me want to leap
through the closest window and the come
down drowns my saning mind.

photo by Thomas Hawk

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while i was in full stride to make my evening’s final ferry, i passed a couple out on the lawn, shrieking at me to come over and take a picture. they were hysterical about my viking horns – much more enthusiastic than the helmet warranted. stories were shared, and it turned out that the lady had asked her gentlemen to choose a dinner cuisine – when he jokingly said VIKING, she replied (unconvinced by his humor) “that would only be funny if a viking walked by right now…” and ‘right now’ happened to be about 15 seconds before i topped the hill they were facing. really? really.

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check it out:
http://www.pandora.com/music/artist/evan+hammer

a superbig shout out to Cam Mitchell (and whoever whistle2whistle is) for being in my “People Listening To This Artist…”

cheers,
Hammer

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to read more: Long Island Spotlight: Evan Hammer, Bury Me A Lion

Long Island Spotlight: Evan Hammer, Bury Me A Lion

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quick interlude – i promised myself that if i were to write about alice, i wouldn’t Blather on about the new movie, wasting my breathe and your vision, so to make it brief: it wasn’t just a bummer, it was the dreaded ‘Total Bummer’.

from “If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is because everything would be what it isn’t. And contrary-wise; what it is it wouldn’t be, and what it wouldn’t be, it would,” to the crazy colors of Shrinking Alice and the ever Weirding voice of the Chesire Cat (yes yes yes he’s Winnie the Pooh!), we ravaged on two Growlers from Bierkraft and some silly Subwayversations, on and on, of course the Mad Tea Party and “Dont Step on the MOME RATHS!!!”

Don't Step On the Mome Raths

and then we were out on the street, soho in the early evening, investigating passing conversations and Howling at the sidewalk, hotdogs and those crazy Outfits, we finally found our outdoor pizzeria but i needed to go, back Underground to brooklyn for musical endeavors.

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Bury Me A Lion @ Make Music New York 2009

these people aren’t happy when you first walk in with a clip board and a running mouth, but automatic Resistance gives way to skeptical Discernment as they realize that the festival is actually free and i’m not asking for money. then there is excitement and wrappingtheirheadsaroundit conversation.

point is, i’m out there putting Tupelo Honey into our Communal Coffee (and i dont even like coffee). do you like to play outside? then Sign up for june 21st: http://timeoutny.com/makemusic

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to lee: 2006.11.28 00:50

the bees are dying now. i can see them dropping out of the air – no carefully designed spiral descents for them – no no – i follow the bees with my eyes from the wall to an invisible poison sphere hanging a foot away and then shes and hes dive down down down – kamikazes attacking my precious feet! i’m careful not to step on them. not careful enough. all my honey jars are growing hideous fungi – even my sacred tupelo reserves. there’s no one left to serve me my sweet things – i walk outside and wash my eyelids in the abandoned combs and their failed children. perhaps death shall offer no boundary as i absorb the shining golden recipe straight from the tomb.

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