Tribal Enema – January 21st, 2001
by Bing Futch
Tribal enema, that’s what this world needs. A big walk in the grass, a squat in the mud for a piece. Here in the dawning of the 21st century our anthem should be loud and clear: “get naked!” We are, without all of the trappings, all human. With no clothes to distinguish us, no cars to reflect status, no dwellings to decorate with the superficial expressions of personality, what is left?
Our physical selves, all alike in one way, shape or form, yet totally independent of each other by means of spirit, character and taste in music. Muse upon that, if you will, in the dirt. BUTT NEKKED! We all should be a lot nicer to one another in the long run. That’s my New Year’s Resolution for Two-Double – O – One. To be. Nicer. For the really slow on the uptake, I’ll underscore that. My goal for this year is to Be. Period. Nicer. Well, you can take that however you want, but I don’t realistically expect to get any nicer, personally. To quote the great Harry Callahan (as portrayed by Clint Eastwood), “man has to know his limitations.”
An Experiment In Sound Recording
Full Sail Center For The Recording Arts is trying an experiment with some new property that they’ve recently acquired. The school has set up a live recording environment in what used to be an auto-body shop, in addition to a full-size professional live recording set-up and the school’s main cluster of top-rate production studio suites. In a word: wet. From the moment you walk into the complex, if you’re any kind of “student” of production, the place will have you spotting in no time. There is equipment here that has recorded some of the greatest and most popular names in the biz. In any case thereabouts, I was one of the guinea pigs for a live session at the new facility with beginning sound and light students. The new experiment allows for solo or duo performers to get high-quality recordings made of their live act. Previously, Full Sail only arranged for full bands to benefit from such a program. For two 45-minute sets, I ran through tunes while the students scrambled to deal with the peculiar acoustic idiosyncrasies of the Appalachian mountain dulcimer. J.D., the instructor responsible for the lighting students, had worked with MOHAVE when the band played for Full Sail Live, but had never heard the instrument in a simple non-distorted setting.
Ideally, it should be heard on a porch somewhere.
Origins Of A Date With Dulcimer (And Meta)
You’ve never felt like tons of stupid until you’ve worn a bright orange cowboy shirt and blue Wranglers from Sears as your costume for a parking control job. Yes sir and yes ma’am, that and a straw cowboy hat were the duds required to wave cars around in the big concrete pancakes surrounding Knott’s Berry Farm, the southern California theme park that was my post-high school employment for four years. The summer of 1985 was blazing hot. Those outfits were the pits, being made of polyester and all. So I’m sweating through the park one day on my lunch break, breaching Ghost Town, and I hear the sweet, chiming strains of a stringed instrument lulling me from the porch of the Gold Trails Hotel, one of the oldest buildings in the park at the time, though it’s now been demolished and replaced with a not-so-accurately-rendered replica.
I see a pleasantly plump, dark-complexioned young woman strumming the instrument that I’ve come to know and love. She told me what it was, where it came from, how much it cost and then turned it around and let me play it. That’s what sold it. The actual
contact with the instrument, feeling the vibrations coming off of the wood as I slipped a pick across its four strings. I was back that Friday with my spoils from a week’s worth of dodging anxiety-ridden tourists in rented SUV’s. That first dulcimer still hangs on my wall, along with the one that I made while working on that same porch later in the summer. But I digress and daydream while I’m at it. While we were striking the gear after the Full Sail experiment, one of the students expressed an interest in seeing the instrument up close and personal, so I handed it over and let him set down and get into it for awhile. Someone’s gonna make a sale somewhere, the light in his eyes said so. Where ever you are Meta Stephens, I hope you’re still turning people on to the Appalachian mountain dulcimer, ’cause I get it into someone else’s hands as often as I can. Help spread the love. Thanks Meta, for the seduction too, that was completely unexpected.
Speaking to the rumors of break-up for Mohave. Yes, we did break up. Right after our CD Release Party gig at Johnny’s Rockin’ Bistro on January 13th, you have to appreciate the timing of such a thing. I won’t go into the details, that’s between the others and myself. But the news is this: Mohave will continue, we’re just not sure if it’ll be the original version or not. Stay tooned.
Was enthralled to finally see FRICTION FARM perform, they were a perfect, cathartic backdrop to the breakup proceedings. I did get to soak up the vibe of their excellent tune “February Austin Texas”, which should be a break-out track for them someday. Christine Stay has the potential of being the next Riot Grrl out of Florida.
Then more blessings. Blessings heaped upon blessings. I’ve been bumping into Roger Docking for a couple of years now while signing up for open mic nights all around Orlando, we’ve spent many a time talking backstage about putting bands together. His dream has finally come true with THADDEUS CRUMB and it’s an impressive array of musicians he’s assembled for the project. Those who heard
the show on M4 on 1/14 got the whole picture since technical difficulties resulted in only half the “Mterview” being recorded. It’s a safe bet that you’ll be able to catch them live around town soon, worth a trip out.
Been moving, dodging the FBI. Peeking through blinds a lot. Someday, the whole story will be told and I’ll be the only one suited to tell it. But for now, this is all you’re getting. Till next time, chillun. Get nekked, BUTT NEKKED!