Yawning Man “Live at Giant Rock”
directed by Sam Grant
starring Gary Arce, Mario Lalli, Bill Stinson
Giant boulder litter the desert floor, worn smooth by oceans long gone, and partially hidden by sands from those self-same oceans as they dried up. Musicians come out here to play in peace and quiet, bothered only by the winds whistling over the rocks, and far far away from police hassles and permitting nightmares. The Punks lead the charge here to avoid the hassles of making loud noise in Los Angeles. Today they return as acolytes to the High Priests of sound, worshiping in distant safe zones as did the Greeks 3000 years before. Rocks loom in this crisp 1400 dpi video. The sound is perfect and curiously devoid of dessert ambiance. The sky glows cerulean blue, the dessert dun and brown below. A gasoline generator powers the show, and the audience appears to be one single camera man. We do not here the generator, it has been banished to another dimension. Mr. Generation is not cool. But he is essential.
“Tumbleweeds in the Snow” opens the show. Gary Arce leads on lead, Mario Lanni backs him with bass, and the drummer Bill Stinson seems to be following their lead. The music sounds like classic hard rock. Mysterious tracks float by: “The Last Summer Eye” and “Blowhole Sunrise / Space Finger” all sound similar, and flow together like a Grateful Dead Jam or an early Pink Floyd concert. Power chords dominate, intricate melodies flash in the sun, and a sense arises as some thing powerful grows in the sand. Backing the show are well worn boulders, and ancient cataclysms brough them to this dry pace, a good 100 miles or better from enough water to cover them, never mid polish them smooth. Yuccas stand in unmoved in the heat, sand from a past beach lies on the ground. The music soar, the environment stares back blankly. Music is for man. Time is for rocks. This music is for inner examination. Be sure and bring plenty of water. I recommend at least a gallon a person a day, but three is better.