It Makes No Sense At All: How I Got The Entire Husker Du catalog for $20

So, three weeks ago my friend Bill came to town and he and I drove to Disc daddy, one of my absolute favorite stores in the world for music, one of the few remaining places where I still "shop," meaning that I go in not knowing what I'll buy, I just browse. Bill was getting ridiculously excited about the copy of Zen Arcade that I was jamming in the car, so he said that if they had any Husker Du at Disc Daddy, he'd buy it. They didn't have any, and the owner basically said that they never receive any, people just don't sell Husker Du CDs for $4 apiece. Today, I popped in after a disappointing tour of Shreveport-Bossier's Salvation Army stores (does anyone know what's happening to these places? They're almost empty. A few scraps of furniture, no men's clothing at all, etc.), and came in as a guy was selling all three of the Husker Du albums I don't have. What are the chances??? So, I bought them all on the spot for $20, and I'm making a "Best Of" disc for Saratoga and my homey Jessanald, who have both asked me about the HD in the past week. The owner of Disc Daddy was tripping out on it, he said something like "That is the quickest I have ever sold anything...I know Husker Du albums never stay here long, but this is really funny."

Other than that, I'm excited because tonight I'm part of a showcase of weird electronic/rap musicians at the Jackrabbit Lounge that includes Paradise Island, a side project of a band that I love very dearly, Erase Errata. I'm actually totally terrified about doing the whole King Hippo schtick while opening for, in my opinion, one of the great lead singers of feminist punk rock music. I'm gonna avoid "Monster Cock," to say the least...

"Townes Van Zandt is the greatest songwriter who ever lived, and I'll stand on Bob Dylan's coffee table in my cowboy boots and say that." - Steve Earl

I had kind of expected for there to be a lot of trouble coming, with Sara going back to Denver for another long year. I knew it was coming and braced myself, but it's worse than I had expected. I'm not mad at anyone, myself nor anyone else, I mostly just feel kind of silly for my lack of preparation, having known what to expect. I feel like I imagine the people left clinging to tree limbs must feel when they're being rescued by movie stars in aluminum boats: Glad to be alive, pretty embarrassed for being so stranded.

I've been pouring as much energy as I can into the creation of new music, text, and film, and I've been falling back on some friends old and relatively new. Carter and I created a short film on Sunday, we made it out of pieces of an old public domain Mexican film that I found at Goodwill. Turned out to be the best damned purchase I have made in ages. Here's a link to the film, which is an absurd re-edit of this movie into a surreal trailer with nonsense subtitles.

"Solo in Mis Juevos"

As my awesome friend Riley palmer said: I have no eggs. I have no eggs.

Something else (and to explain the quote above), the best music purchase I have made lately has been Townes Van Zandt: Texas Troubador. My favorite song that he wrote is a number called "You Are Not Needed Now." You can buy it on iTunes for 99 cents, a fact that seems somehow amazing and cruel at the same time.

More movie reviews to come, perhaps, or maybe I'll just keep doing this emo-ass posts. Or maybe I'll take up catblogging, but without the cat.

"Well, the birds they were talking all at once
and the old man mowing down his lawn
he didn't look like much too bad a guy
and I was thinking, hang on man,
something's wrong
your blues, they do seem to be gone
Heaven ain't bad, but you don't get nothing done.

Well, Allison laid an egg on me
and every time I turn around
it's swimming through the air above my bed
I told Miss Hicks and she said "Fine,
as long as you're back in your room on time,
I keep you clean and the girls will keep you fed."

Between the blankets made of wool
the trains roll by every half an hour
and the body can get no restin' done, that's true
so I do my best, as best I can
thinkin' big and making plans
and wondering where them trains are rolling to

Lay down your head poor boy
and feel how the ground does move
and hear how them drivers sing

Well, goodbye friends, it's time to close
everybody knows that's the way it goes
where was it you lived in case I'm ever there
Well, three doors down and two behind
and it gets a little bit out of hand sometimes
don't let it fool you into thinkin you don't care

Lay down your head and fly
I'll quietly pass you by
you won't even see me go

If I thought about it long enough
I just might make some kind of move
watchful eyes are too hard on the soul
With the smoke house just across the way
and this fog upon the light of day
I would be hard pressed comin' up with where to go

Lay down your head poor boy
feel how the ground does move
hear how them drivers sing
What now, my darling one
go find a little fun
you are not needed now."


-Townes Van Zandt,
"You Are Not Needed Now"