time

I feel obligated to share this music with whoever will listen, because it’s that gawdamn good. These boys pretty much convinced me that not all kids who play music nowadays are complete pieces of shit, and that maybe rock ‘n roll still has a fightin’ chance. These here are my chronicles of our odd relationship.

-Sven Gossard Oliver, Mud Creek, CO. 2020

• [1] A primer for them who know not of St. Fante…
  This terminal madness came to light thanks to a pint of Hot 100 and a jimson weed cigar I smoked one Tuesday night in the parking lot of the Cork and Bottle liquor store down in Cortez, CO. I had decided to visit the big city on a lark, maybe catch a movie, and next … Read more
• [2] Dirt ghosts or mudpuppets?
  We ain’t really learned nothing about who these boys were ‘til Uncle Dave and I broke out the Ouija board one night in the cemetery. It was a Friday, after the basketball finished up. Mancos done whipped our ass real good, but that was to be expected, what with that big Samoan kid they had. … Read more
• [3] The Slaughterhouse sojourn
  Once we got over Wolf Creek we decided to pull over and sleep off the Robo. There were enough hours left before the show, and we could still make Pueblo by about 4. So no reason to struggle against the syrup, just hopin’ a deer didn’t jump out in front of us and damage the … Read more
• [4] Quiet time with Uncle Dave
  It was a quiet drive home to the bean fields. Uncle Dave and I just sucked on them Natty Ice’s one after another without sayin’ a word until we got to Bayfield where we stopped and brushed our teeth in the park. Uncle Dave spat, looked over at me and asked, “Hey, Ollie; You think … Read more
• [5] Visitors welcome
  We had to wait ‘til Friday before we could try givin’ them boys a call. I knew it required getting way deep into somethin’ heavy, and I couldn’t be missing any more of my classes. School district had been pretty lenient, all things considered. Especially after that incident in Towaoc. But ain’t no one can … Read more
• [6] Rumors from the Bardo
  PIckin’s were a bit slim that night in terms of entheogenic material, but Uncle Dave got ahold of some mescaline microdots from some skater kids down in Cortez. We ate a couple as early as we could, since they take a good long while to start comin’ up. We brought the Ouija board, the planchette … Read more
• [7] No Country for Assholes
  School was out for the next two-and-a-half months, meanin’ I had to keep myself busy doing whatever I could lest the wife put me to work around the house. Couldn’t have that, so I decided to pick up a guitar and start learnin’ me some chords out in the shop. I would tinker a bit … Read more
• [8] Bean Hooch
  Nice long days out there midsummer in Mud Creek. Ain’t got no mountains to the west and it stays light ‘til damn near ten o’clock for about two weeks on either side of  the solstice. Uncle Dave and I drank jug after jug of cheap red wine, since we’d finished readin’ all of Fante and … Read more
• [9] Big Head Toad and the Hemorrhoids
  We had many a conversation about what we were gonna be up to on the 26th. Seemed like somethin’ special was in order, lest them boys not show up again. Uncle Dave had connections from Window Rock to Pagosa, and so he was talkin’ anything from peyote to scopolamine to some Georgia Homeboy. I just … Read more
• [10] Givin’ it back
  We nursed them two hemorrhoids and smoked a coupla cigarettes without sayin’ another word for a good long while. Then I looked up and seen them two burlap bags hanging above the workbench, and a little burst of light went off in my head. Coulda been a blood vessel burstin’ thanks to the bean hooch, … Read more
• [11] Payin’ it sideways
  You’d a thought we were packin’ up for some kinda expedition, what with all the gear went in the truck bed: Burlap bag fulla cassettes we’d just dubbed, liter of bean hooch, two mason jars, compressor, cannon, quart of methanol heads I’d been pullin’ off each run through the still, two lawn chairs, the Ouija … Read more
• [12] The vacuum’s greatest hits
  This here’s my take on what happened. Uncle Dave seems to remember it differently, but that’s because he ended up on a different timeline, I’m pretty sure. He’s alive, and that’s sayin’ a helluva lot. Maybe this is some Portrait of the Artist As a Young Dog short story kinda deal, or maybe we broke … Read more
• [13] A good hard blistering
  I was there in the clinic with him when he came to. We’d gotten a makeshift tourniquet placed just above the wound, just like we’d  learned in boy scouts thirty years back. I’d slung him over my shoulder and got him in the truck, hauled ass into town with his complexion lookin’ like a Hummel … Read more
• [14] Uncle Dave recollects
  “I had that shitty lighter and it didn’t wanna kick off. By the time I got that bowl fired up you were pretty much comatose, so I just sucked that whole pile down in one go, tryin’ to catch up. It tasted funny, but not what I thought frog or toad or whatever was gonna … Read more
• [15] Fuck them coyotes
  It was pretty middle-of-the-day meanin’ there were folks out in the cemetery, visitin’, and I felt a bit outta place just walkin’ through there given my current appearance. But nobody really paid me much attention as I wove my way out to where we’d been, tryin’ to mentally itemize all the shit that we’d probably … Read more
• [16] Fuck them crows too
  It’s hard to recall exactly when I started paying attention to the crow problem. By the time school had started back up I was takin’ notice of the fact that maybe there were a few more around than normal, but it weren’t ‘til that game with Norwood that it really became apparent as to what … Read more
• [17] Scarecrow square dance
  I got Uncle Dave home and onto his couch. Brought in that cooler of Natty Ice and finished most of ‘em before headin’ out. I left the truck and walked the mile or so back to my place, wonderin’ what the deal with them crows was. Wasn’t my birthday. Wasn’t Uncle Dave’s either. Happy birthday … Read more
• [18] Agenda item number one
  We cross referenced my photos with others online until I was satisfied with Uncle Dave’s assessment. There weren’t no doubt that was Neil Michael Hagerty walkin’ up through the bean field just between my place and Dave’s. No idea what this meant, but it sure as hell meant somethin’. Dave and I were both fans … Read more
• [19] Jesus of Del Rio
  “Some damn good pie, Mrs. Bauer. Don’t know how you do it.” “That’s mighty kind of you Sven. My granny’s recipe, from back in the oil patch. Speakin’ of which, there was somethin’ I wanted to give you.” She disappeared for about half a minute and came back with a four by twelve picture frame … Read more
• [20] Hexodus
  I was in the shop when Uncle Dave walked in and saw that photo his mom had given me earlier. “Hey! Now how’d you get a hold of that thing anyway?” “Pearl gave it to me earlier when I stopped by. Not really sure why but I kinda like it. Jesus don’t look all that … Read more
• [21] An Historical Aside
  So at least we had that board back in our possession. Uncle Dave was especially pleased, as there was a decent amount of sentimental value associated with that damn thing. He’d come home with it after spending a few weeks out in Chilchinbeto, building relations with the locals he said. That was about two years … Read more
• [22] The Book of Elijah
  I still had my crow problem and it didn’t seem likely that Hagerty was going to help me fix it any time soon. At least not directly. Uncle Dave and I agreed it was time to try and call them boys back up for some guidance, or at least some new music. It was our … Read more
• [23] The Wife
  I watched Elijah until he’d crow-plowed his way outta sight, then turned to Uncle Dave just in time to see him come shakin’ his way out from underneath six inches of obsidian feathers and black pearl eyeballs. I was teeterin’ a bit and managed a sloppy elliptical two-step, crunchin’ beaks and skulls like they was … Read more
• [24] An Ethical Conundrum
  I wasn’t sure if Thanksgiving break would provide adequate time for me to get up to Denver and sort my shit out or not, but that was the original plan. Turns out plans make themselves, as I ended up leavin’ a lot sooner than intended, and stayin’ far longer than I wanted. Shit; You shoot … Read more
• [25] Schemie on the Dole
  Shootin’ Lloyd McNiel’s boy was a blessing in disguise, for me anyway. I truly did not want to tell the Wife about bein’ absent for Thanksgiving dinner. She don’t deserve such torment, and that would have caused real upset seeing how Thanksgiving was, by far, the most important Thursday on her calendar. She’d break out … Read more
• [26] The Ghost of Jingle-Hop Past
  For once Thanksgiving turned out to be an historically accurate representation of its roots as opposed to abiding by the typical colonial-normative bullshit. Instead of everyone putting on pilgrim hats and Indian headdresses and circle jerking around a horn ‘o plenty, the wife and I started a war with the neighbors. Or they started one … Read more
• [27] Bye Bye, Shit-Eye
  The Wife weren’t too pleased with how her Thanksgiving turned out thanks to Agnes’ froward mouth, and I needed to set things in order before I could mention my upcoming sojourn to the Big City. I had a five pound bag of Hawaiin Baby Woodrose seeds that I’d had in storage for about a year, … Read more