"Rock the house but keep it country"

I'd like to send yet another shout out to one of the members of the Frankfurt based phenomenon The Tiki Kings, for the title of this post.  I may turn this into a bumper sticker and affix it to my new blue bicycle, or perhaps just scrawl it on the front of a t-shirt.

I've got thoughts floating all over the damn place right now, perhaps propelled by the onslaught of cherry blossoms, morning sunlight and birdsong jams that are overtaking the dryness of winter.

SXSW came and went in a flash, streets full of drunken fools and girls and guys on fixed gear bikes looking for a place to park.

I skipped much of the chaos of the crowds and headed for the sleepy town of San Marcos for a few days, where I took part in my own abridged music festival.  Mix one part Lindsey, Scott, and his friend Calvin (who wore his t-shit "fuck y'all, I'm from texas", while watering his cherry tomatoes) and you get one incarnation of the Alamo Squad.  We put together 2 songs and recorded them, in between copious amounts of beer/whiskey, and the shooting of the BB gun.  Turns out if you take the label off the Shiner bottles they break easier.

I did manage to catch the last Moondoggies show with my roomie Caroline, we drank free beer and watched Jon Pontrello going f-ing crazy on the tambourine.  We then headed to the Hole in the Wall, a well known dive bar near UT Campus, and checked out a young band named Marmalake that I loved.

The true highlight of SXSW happened after all the crowds had rioted and gone home, all of music makers, hoarse and exhausted, collapsed back into their vans for the long drive home.  Last night I had the sincere pleasure and privilege of seeing Danny Schmidt, along with Carrie Elkin and Raina Rose, at the Cactus Cafe.

If you don't know of this singer-songwriter, go find him at Easy Street Records or some other fine shop, and open up your lil' heart- his music will hopefully make a nice home for itself deep in there.

A few years ago Danny Schmidt played a house concert at my parent's place in North Seattle, we cleared out the furniture, set up the amp and the mike, Mom made greek salad and a lovely toast, and his voice filled the summer the night. I had the chance to play a few songs before he began- one of the highlights of my fledgling musical journey.

As I was listening to his songs, some new, some old and familiar to me now, I felt undone by the memories that came up so suddenly, and so vividly.

This one goes out to Samm and Kyle, listening to Parables and Primes, sitting in the kitchen with french press coffee, Chris painting giant pieces of plywood out back. Kyle running down the street with a backpack full of fireworks, Maria baking cookies to put in the stolen Seattle PI dispenser outside on Wallingford Ave. Samm and I on our way to the Methow, "Riddles and Lies" playing as the mountains rose to meet the winding green road.

Another went out to Miss Alice, dear grandmother who is sorely missed, remembering how as we flew back from Charlottesville after laying her to rest, Danny was playing a show on Phinney Ridge, and at the request of my Mom, played "Company of Friends" in memory of her.  I will always remember that act of kindness, and I consider it a blessing.

In each instance of feeling my eyes well up with tears (this very rarely happens to me at concerts) I was reminded that we cannot have these people or these times back once they have gone from us, but there is this quiet, intimate place, occasionally found in song, where their spirits/memories of those years are close again. A few minutes when our existence feels simple, and full of that delicate combination of longing and acceptance that we so rarely find.

Alright, someone shut me up, that's enough waxing poetic. I feel like Pa after too many birthday Martini's.

Yesterday at work a short pudgy white man introduced himself as James Brown, drank two Frappuccinos, and then asked me if I hung out at Walmart, because he thought he saw me there last night. So weird.

But, that's why we love Austin- for the weirdos, the lizards on the front porch reading the Sunday paper, the delicious veggie sandwiches at Wheatsville, the weather forecast that predicts sunny skies in the 80's for the next week straight.

That's right Seattle, I am in shorts and a tank top right now. I can't believe it either.

That said, I miss you.  Send me a postcard, and I'll send you one in return. Promise.

love,
Lindsey