Open Water

11 minutes in, the fumes from the new coat of latex paint enter the lungs, and what follows can only be described as a stream-of-consciousness listicle punctuated by area tour dates. you’ve been served.

I don’t care if you play it loud. just — y’know — play it.

the station’s a mess, it’s in my kiss. double-dose of Ty and more where that came from.

we’re back, ladies and gentlemen. and the station was kind enough to line the room with tarp & duct tape, to catch the mess that is this week’s show. blood on the tracks, indeed.

welcome to…

at the closing of the year… this.

the station is a hot mess. looks like an Oh Sees album sleeve. no computer to record the show, so here it is, duct-taped together w/out my unhealthy intrusions. Merry Christmas.

we separate the natives from the tourists in the first 8 minutes of Bevis Frond riffage. all uphill from there.

a pre-tape is when I show you how I intend to love you later on. just listen.

this one’s for Bleecker Bob. the world is in no more need of a lotta things. but I’ll always take another record store.