Klatzke
02/21/09, 09:56 PM
Foxy Shazam - Introducing...
Release Date: January 22, 2008
Record Label: Ferret Records
I have a story to tell. Not a bad story, by any means, but also not one that you'd want your children experiencing. I'll set the stage: late one night, I'm up, studying in a most studious way with a new album I'd recently purchased playing in the background when I begin to drift off to sleep...
Much to my surprise, a man storms into my room. He starts cheering, and exclaims: "I always knew there was something special about that boy, and the way he stuck his hand out the window and flew it like an aeroplane!" I, startled, instantly jump up from the warm depths of my computer chair whilst the stranger drops the microphone that seemed to appear from nowhere and begins to plead his case.
He says: "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. My name's Eric Nally, and all I can really say is that I like to make one hell of an entrance. You see, I'm from a land of nonsenical names and off-the-wall antics that accomplish more than most people that try the same things because, well, I don't really draw the line."
Still attempting to make sense of the whole situation, I sit down and he exclaims: "No, don't sit down! Some would say I'm a dangerous man -- and knowing how prone I am to changing my mood I wouldn't dare take a seat." I finally muster up the courage to speak, squeeking out only "Well, uhh, what are you.."
"..doing here?" He says, finishing my sentence. "Well, young lad, I'm here to escort you to a festival of sorts. It's not the normal kind of festival, you see. In fact, it's a musical festival." Before I know it, I'm swept out of my room and I'm standing in a crowded club. I can make out neon glowing from the entrance, and looking around, I spot a stage where my newfound cohort is standing on stage with a cigarette doing the "asking for a light" motions with his hand. Someone grants him a lighter, and he continues to take a few puffs of his newly lit cig before promptly turning it around, opening his mouth, and casting the cigarette into it. Suddenly, a man storms the stage. Multi-colored beard flailing, he takes his place besides a keyboard, climbs upon it and slams out notes that seem random at first, but I quickly notice that there's quite a bit of melody to this seemingly random assortment, and the man can, in fact, play much better than you'd expect from his fervent look.
My newly found friend, Nally, then speaks up, softly explaining something about a fight with a grizzly bear, and some kinds of "Ghost Animals." At this point, he's basically screaming at me, though his voice isn't distorting, and you can clearly hear him yelling "They took my arms and they threw em over there, they took my legs and they threw em over there, grind your booty til' you get some heat friction!"
Wondering what kind of madman I've run into this time, I quickly turn to leave before I hear the tortured screaming and see Nally leap from the stage to be magically caught by a crowd that must have just turned from the ethereal to the corpreal. They throw him back on stage, and he turns around, looks straight into my eyes, grabs the mic, and begins to sing in a way that (hearing his previous ventures) I didn't fully expect. This time he seems, well, almost sane as he proclaims "Say, that you love me, say, that you're mine" once again supported by his trusty, beard-full friend. This doesn't last long, however, and before too long, I see the swagger beginning to well back up behind his eyes. He looks at me, stares deep into my eyes and asks "Are you ready to roll?" Before I could answer, he yells "Wait! I don't wanna know!" and suddenly there's a full band behind him; there's a drummer furiously beating away at his set, obviously trying to overcome the hold that both the vocals and the piano have over their frenetic music, while the guitarist and bass player throw out lines that weave in and out of the cacophinic sound that they're crafting. At this point, I was basically lost in the music, trying to keep my head, all I heard was him screaming something about a bonfire before I ran for the door, as I reached it, I was expecting the cool, fresh air of a not-so-inner-city-but-still-in-a-bad-neighborhood street to meet me. Darting out, expecting a cool breeze--I find myself dead center of the playing band, with them all staring dead at me. Nally looks at me and says "I know what you're thinking Andrew, but you gotta believe me. The only people out at this time of the night are the cops."
Once again, I see the wild glint in his eyes and before I can even react, he's got me moving my feet right along with his; dancing the steps of his insanity. But that's just it, he wasn't making me. It was so hard to resist that well, I just went right along with it, because it was, well... fun. I felt like I was playing right into this madman's hands, but there was nothing I could do, sometimes, it just feels right.
In the last nonsensical words that I would ever hear from him, Nally looks me straight in the eyes, and in his most serious of tones declares: "Tell my mamma that I loved her, tell my pappa the same thing."
Suddenly--I wake up in my computer chair, falling straight forward into my computer desk that I'd somehow pushed away from in my sleep. Before getting up, I examined the nonsense dream I reasoned I'd awoken from. Though it was odd, it was one of those dreams that you wish you could have again and again; one that you miss when it's over. As I start to get up, I hear a door slam behind me. Jolting upright, I look towards the door and see nothing. Upon closer examination, I look towards my dresser where there's a single basketball spinning with only one simple word inscribed upon it: "Introducing..."
punk gone soul
http://www.myspace.com/tstband
Release Date: January 22, 2008
Record Label: Ferret Records
I have a story to tell. Not a bad story, by any means, but also not one that you'd want your children experiencing. I'll set the stage: late one night, I'm up, studying in a most studious way with a new album I'd recently purchased playing in the background when I begin to drift off to sleep...
Much to my surprise, a man storms into my room. He starts cheering, and exclaims: "I always knew there was something special about that boy, and the way he stuck his hand out the window and flew it like an aeroplane!" I, startled, instantly jump up from the warm depths of my computer chair whilst the stranger drops the microphone that seemed to appear from nowhere and begins to plead his case.
He says: "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. My name's Eric Nally, and all I can really say is that I like to make one hell of an entrance. You see, I'm from a land of nonsenical names and off-the-wall antics that accomplish more than most people that try the same things because, well, I don't really draw the line."
Still attempting to make sense of the whole situation, I sit down and he exclaims: "No, don't sit down! Some would say I'm a dangerous man -- and knowing how prone I am to changing my mood I wouldn't dare take a seat." I finally muster up the courage to speak, squeeking out only "Well, uhh, what are you.."
"..doing here?" He says, finishing my sentence. "Well, young lad, I'm here to escort you to a festival of sorts. It's not the normal kind of festival, you see. In fact, it's a musical festival." Before I know it, I'm swept out of my room and I'm standing in a crowded club. I can make out neon glowing from the entrance, and looking around, I spot a stage where my newfound cohort is standing on stage with a cigarette doing the "asking for a light" motions with his hand. Someone grants him a lighter, and he continues to take a few puffs of his newly lit cig before promptly turning it around, opening his mouth, and casting the cigarette into it. Suddenly, a man storms the stage. Multi-colored beard flailing, he takes his place besides a keyboard, climbs upon it and slams out notes that seem random at first, but I quickly notice that there's quite a bit of melody to this seemingly random assortment, and the man can, in fact, play much better than you'd expect from his fervent look.
My newly found friend, Nally, then speaks up, softly explaining something about a fight with a grizzly bear, and some kinds of "Ghost Animals." At this point, he's basically screaming at me, though his voice isn't distorting, and you can clearly hear him yelling "They took my arms and they threw em over there, they took my legs and they threw em over there, grind your booty til' you get some heat friction!"
Wondering what kind of madman I've run into this time, I quickly turn to leave before I hear the tortured screaming and see Nally leap from the stage to be magically caught by a crowd that must have just turned from the ethereal to the corpreal. They throw him back on stage, and he turns around, looks straight into my eyes, grabs the mic, and begins to sing in a way that (hearing his previous ventures) I didn't fully expect. This time he seems, well, almost sane as he proclaims "Say, that you love me, say, that you're mine" once again supported by his trusty, beard-full friend. This doesn't last long, however, and before too long, I see the swagger beginning to well back up behind his eyes. He looks at me, stares deep into my eyes and asks "Are you ready to roll?" Before I could answer, he yells "Wait! I don't wanna know!" and suddenly there's a full band behind him; there's a drummer furiously beating away at his set, obviously trying to overcome the hold that both the vocals and the piano have over their frenetic music, while the guitarist and bass player throw out lines that weave in and out of the cacophinic sound that they're crafting. At this point, I was basically lost in the music, trying to keep my head, all I heard was him screaming something about a bonfire before I ran for the door, as I reached it, I was expecting the cool, fresh air of a not-so-inner-city-but-still-in-a-bad-neighborhood street to meet me. Darting out, expecting a cool breeze--I find myself dead center of the playing band, with them all staring dead at me. Nally looks at me and says "I know what you're thinking Andrew, but you gotta believe me. The only people out at this time of the night are the cops."
Once again, I see the wild glint in his eyes and before I can even react, he's got me moving my feet right along with his; dancing the steps of his insanity. But that's just it, he wasn't making me. It was so hard to resist that well, I just went right along with it, because it was, well... fun. I felt like I was playing right into this madman's hands, but there was nothing I could do, sometimes, it just feels right.
In the last nonsensical words that I would ever hear from him, Nally looks me straight in the eyes, and in his most serious of tones declares: "Tell my mamma that I loved her, tell my pappa the same thing."
Suddenly--I wake up in my computer chair, falling straight forward into my computer desk that I'd somehow pushed away from in my sleep. Before getting up, I examined the nonsense dream I reasoned I'd awoken from. Though it was odd, it was one of those dreams that you wish you could have again and again; one that you miss when it's over. As I start to get up, I hear a door slam behind me. Jolting upright, I look towards the door and see nothing. Upon closer examination, I look towards my dresser where there's a single basketball spinning with only one simple word inscribed upon it: "Introducing..."
punk gone soul
http://www.myspace.com/tstband