The Truth About December

Last month it was pretty quiet here in the Bigfoot Diaries headquarters. Initially we reported that we lost internet connection. The following is the story of what really happened to my laptop...

Just for kicks I typed the word "Google" into Google's search engine, and clicked on the "I'm feeling lucky" tab.

I sat in eerie silence for about ten seconds watching the screen, and instead of the page simply resetting itself as I imagined it would, the screen went blank and my laptop started emitting fire and smoke from the disc drive. Frantically, I tried to shut it down via the Ctrl/Alt/Delete method but to no avail. After a loud sucking noise and a POP! my Dell vanished into thin air leaving a small puff of dust in it's place. It disappeared completely, taking it's shadow with it. The only thing that remains is a small black burn stain on my wooden desk top.

My laptop a few seconds before complete evaporation.

Yeah... Never, never NEVER do this.

Des Moines Love and Music

I can remember years ago when I started to comprehend the love I had for music. I can remember always loving the entity and the spirit and emotion it filled me with. (I use the term 'entity' as it's more than a sound, action, creation...it's a being, it has life) I can remember my first show, Raffi, actually terrified me. There were so many people. He was pulling kids up on stage. I recall being absolutely frightened that I would be chosen and would be made into a complete fool, tripping over my own feet, filled with nerves. I never was chosen. The following shows consisted of The New Kids on the Block, MC Hammer, Janet Jackson, Genesis...and the list began growing. I didn't understand what I was getting myself into. At the tender age of 29, I have an ever evolving list of bands that I've seen under my belt, local to national. I've become with these creators and they have made my life even more rich. I can't exactly pinpoint what music does to me. It fills me with joy, tears, love, hate, trust, compassion, anger, sensuality...the list goes on and on. As a follower of the (local) scene, I have my preferred bands, but will open up to anything. I've been to country shows, hip-hop shows, emo shows, metal shows, punk shows, rock shows...you name it, I've been there with a PBR in hand. There are a handful of venues in Des Moines, all with their strong points as well as their weak points. Some are 'too far west', some 'aren't in a safe neighborhood', some 'aren't clean enough', etc. Now, Des Moines is not a large city. Not at all. The differences in the 'scenes' though, are vast and competitors let it be known. We have entities such as Pitchfork Media, Des Moines Music Coalition as well as various genre clubs. "What we have here is a failure to communicate." We have different genres competing with one another, venues and booking agencies at each other's throats, bands that refuse to share a bill with other bands. Of course, personal differences are always going to come into effect. We're human, imperfect, flawed with emotion. What we forget is that we are one entity. Without that rival band, the 'scene' could die with YOU. I was too young to be able to be a part of The Runway, The Foundry or the orignial Hairy Mary's, but I do see the residual left over of what was once Des Moines' music scene. I try to attend as many shows as possible in our area. I have been to each venue in town at least once. I have the venues I prefer, but don't discriminate if it's a band I love. Bottom line to my ramblings is that Des Moines needs a music revival. We need to realize that we're all a little piece to the 'whole' that is our 'scene'. We all own it and are all responsible for it's growth and development. Musicians, fans, booking agencies, venues are all letting personal differences get in the way of a greater good, SUCCESS. Des Moines has a reputation as having a large heavy metal/rock persona. There is so much more. Blues, jazz, rockabilly, country, hip-hop. On a given night you are bound to find a band in each given genre playing to a half empty bar/venue. Is it that the word's not getting to you? You can't stand the guitar player's sister's ex-boyfriend? The venue's bathrooms aren't to your liking? You can always find something wrong, but you can also ALWAYS find something right. As a community (and this can apply to any city/state/'scene'), we need to appreciate and embrace what it is that we have and do all we can to support it. There are so many ways to assist: For one, GO TO SHOWS. There will be nothing without supporters. Spread the word. Life is turning electronic. A mass text, a FB post, a phone call. It all gets the point across. Volunteer to be on street teams. Generally, this will consist of putting up fliers. We really need to realize the talent that we possess and show it the love and devotion that it shows us. We're all a part in the bigger picture. Without YOU, the Des Moines music scene will never thrive as it should. All bands start somewhere. Somewhere small.... Music is life. Life perpetuates life.

Friday Morning Call To Arms

One more work day, kids... And then it's the weekend. Did you want SCREAM IN YOUR COFFEE?

Wake up... TURN IT UP!

It's a Bird!.. It's a Plane!... It's Megadeth!

Megadeth to the rescue!

While walking home from school in the central Norwegian municipality of Rakkestad, a 13 year old boy was confronted by a small pack of hungry wolves. Knowing that he was about to be ripped to shreds, he hearkened the advice of his elders, who had told him what to do if ever provoked by these blood thirsty canines... Don't run, but instead make yourself look as big as possible and be VERY LOUD.

The boy, who had been listening to Megadeth on his cell phone's MP3 player, simply turned up the volume to it's maximum setting. That was enough to startle the wolves, and eventually send them scurrying, thus saving the boy's life.

No word on what song was being played at the time, but could it have possibly been...

Yes... This really happened.

The Incredible Story of Albert Ostman

In 1924, a young Scandinavian named Albert Ostman spent several days prospecting for a lost gold mine near the head of Toba Inlet in British Columbia. He had heard that there were several of these old mines in the British Columbia area, and thought it would be a great vacation experience if he could locate one.

He took the Union Steamship boat to Lund, British Columbia, where he hired an old Indian to guide him the rest of the way to the Toba Inlet.

In Albert's own words: "This old Indian was a very talkative old gentleman. He told me stories about gold brought out by a white man from this lost mine. This white man was a very heavy drinker — spent his money freely in saloons. But he had no trouble in getting more money. He would be away a few days, then come back with a bag of gold. But one time he went to his mine and never came back. Some people said a Sasquatch had killed him.

At that time I had never heard of Sasquatch. So I asked what kind of an animal he called a Sasquatch. The Indian said, "They have hair all over their bodies, but they are not animals. They are people. Big people living in the mountains. My uncle saw the tracks of one that were two feet long. One old Indian saw one over eight feet tall.

I told the Indian I didn't believe in their old fables about mountain giants. It might have been some thousands of years ago, but not nowadays.

The Indian said: 'There may not be many, but they still exist.'"

Albert made it to Toba Inlet and was happy to have this time to himself. He figured that he would scour the forest during the days looking for the mine, and at night he would map out the areas he covered and make plans for the next day's exploration. He had plenty of food that he had bought from a grocer in Lund,which consisted mostly of canned items, but also some bacon, a bag of beans, four pounds of prunes, six packets of macaroni and cheese, three pounds of pancake flour, six packets of Rye King hard tack, one quart of butter and two one-pound cans of milk. The grocer in Lund also gave Albert some tin cans in order to keep his sugar, salt and matches dry. Then he had a sleeping bag, a Winchester rifle, a small frying pan, an aluminum pot, and three rolls of snuff. He would bundle all of this together before he set out in the morning and carry it with him as he set up a new camp each night. It would require alot of stamina to lug around an eighty pound bag each day, but Albert didn't really seem to mind so much. He was after all on "vacation." He would travel like this for about three days until he found a spot suitable to be his permanent camping spot.

Toba Inlet, British Columbia

Albert was sleeping in his sleeping bag when he was suddenly awakened to a terrifying realization. He was being "carried"... He had been scooped up and transported off... By something much bigger than he. At first he thought that he must be dreaming. But as he became more and more aware of the experience, he realized that he was not dreaming, but very much awake.

Wrapped up tightly in his sleeping bag, it was impossible for Albert to determine what was carrying him, but he could determine this much: He was being carried over the shoulder of a large bi-pedal creature that seemed to possess super human strength and amazing dexterity.

"My first thought was - it must be a snow slide..." Albert recalled several years later. "Then it felt like I was tossed on horseback, but I could feel whoever it was, was walking."

"I was in a very uncomfortable position — unable to move. I was sitting on my feet, and one of the boots in the bottom of the bag was crossways with the hobnail sole up across my foot. It hurt me terribly, but I could not move.

It was very hot inside. It was lucky for me this fellow's hand was not big enough to close up the whole bag when he picked me up — there was a small opening at the top, otherwise I would have choked to death."

Too afraid to move or to try to escape, and simply dumbfounded, Albert didn't move for several hours as the creature carried him away from his camp site. Then, very suddenly, he was dropped to the ground. He could hear some incoherent chatter, but couldn't make out what was being said, if anything. He was terrified for his life, and still wasn't able to comprehend what was happening. He continued to fight off the notion that he was still sleeping and just having a bad dream.

The next day Albert found himself in an area that was surrounded by cliffs on all sides. And he was not alone. There with him was what he considered to be a family of Bigfoot... 4 specimens of different sizes and shapes... An enormous creature that Albert figured to be the "old man" of the group, an "old lady",  and two younger creatures that appeared to be children. Albert figured the old man to be over 8 feet tall and to weigh about 800 pounds. He judged the old lady to be slightly smaller at about 7 feet tall and 600 pounds. The children were much smaller in stature, and were obviously lacking in the maturity of the older beasts.

"I had never heard of Sasquatch before the Indian told me about them. But I knew I was right among them.

But how to get away from them, that was another question? I got to see the outline of them now, as it began to get lighter, though the sky was cloudy, and it looked like rain, in fact there was a slight sprinkle.

I now had circulation in my legs, but my left foot was very sore on top where it had been resting on my hobnail boots. I got my boots out from the sleeping bag and tried to stand up. I found that I was wobbly on my feet, but I had a good hold of my rifle.

I asked, "What you fellows want with me?" Only some more chatter.

I had my compass and my prospecting glass on strings around my neck. The compass in my left hand shirt pocket and my glass in my right hand pocket. I tried to reason our location, and where I was. I could see now that I was in a small valley or basin about eight or ten acres, surrounded by high mountains, on the southeast side there was a V-shaped opening about eight feet wide at the bottom and about twenty feet high at the highest point — that must be the way I came in. But how will I get out? The old man was now sitting near this opening.

I moved my belongings up close to the west wall. There were two small cypress trees there, and this will do for a shelter for the time being. Until I find out what these people want with me, and how to get away from here. I emptied out my pack sack to see what I had left in the line of food. All my canned meat and vegetables were intact and I had one can of coffee. Also three small cans of milk — two packages of Rye King hard tack and my butter sealer half full of butter. But my prunes and macaroni were missing. Also my full box of shells for my rifle. I had my sheath knife but my prospecting pick was missing and my can of matches. I only had my safety box full and that held only about a dozen matches. That did not worry me — I can always start a fire with my prospecting glass when the sun is shining, if I got dry wood. I wanted hot coffee, but I had no wood, also nothing around here that looked like wood. I had a good look over the valley from where I was — but the boy and girl were always watching me from behind some juniper bush. I decided there must be some water around here. The ground was leaning towards the opening in the wall. There must be water at the upper end of this valley, there is green grass and moss along the bottom.

All my utensils were left behind. I opened my coffee tin and emptied the coffee in a dishtowel and tied it with the metal strip from the can. I took my rifle and the can and went looking for water. Right at the head under a cliff there was a lovely spring that disappeared underground. I got a drink, and a full can of water. When I got back the young boy was looking over my belongings, but did not touch anything. On my way back I noticed where these people were sleeping. On the east side wall of this valley was a shelf in the mountain side, with overhanging rock, looking something like a big undercut in a big tree about 10 feet deep and 30 feet wide. The floor was covered with lots of dry moss, and they had some kind of blankets woven of narrow strips of cedar bark, packed with dry moss. They looked very practical and warm — with no need of washing.

Photo: Lori Simmons (Used with permission)

Albert found himself in this incredulous situation, but yet he somehow managed to keep his bearings. The "old man" was very large and menacing, and Albert seemed to understand that if he panicked and freaked out, it could result in him taking a severe beating from this creature. He was able to gauge his surroundings and figured that he would bide his time until it he had a plan to escape.

The first day was pretty uneventful. He wasn't tied down and he had the freedom to rouse through his belongings at will. He ate his food without cooking it, always under the watchful eyes of the two younger creatures. He had an empty can of snuff, and tossed it over in the direction where the young boy was. The boy sprang to his feet and grabbed it, and took it over to his sister. The two of them played with it for a long while, and they discovered how to open and close it. After awhile, the boy took it over to the father and showed it to him. It seemed to be a subject of considerable attention, as the two "had a long chatter" about it.

The next morning Albert realized that he only had enough food to make it out of there and back to Toba Inlet. He knew had to leave - even if it meant shooting his way out. He wasn't sure what direction he would have to travel but figured that if he went downhill, he would eventually find civilization someplace. He put the rest of his food in his pack, and loaded a shell into the barrel of his rifle. With a deep breath, he started for the opening where the "old man" sat. The father stood up and pushed Albert back... It became very apparent that Albert wasn't allowed to leave. Albert pointed to the opening and told the old man that he wanted to pass through. The old man kept pushing, and said something that Albert would later describe as sounding like "Soka Soka".

Albert backed up to about 60 feet. He would need the space he figured, if he was going to shoot his way out. Then he remembered that he only had six shells, and wasn't perfectly sure that the first one would kill the old man. What it might do, Albert figured, is make the old man extremely angry, and thus wouldn't allow time to get another shell injected into the barrel before Albert took a shellacking. Albert figured that there must be another way out of there, without killing the old man. He went back to his campsite and started to work on plan B...

"I could make friends with the young fellow or the girl, they might help me. If I only could talk to them. Then I thought of a fellow who saved himself from a mad bull by blinding him with snuff in his eyes. But how will I get near enough to this fellow to put snuff in his eyes? So I decided next time I give the young fellow my snuff box to leave a few grains of snuff in it. He might give the old man a taste of it.

But the question is, in what direction will I go, if I should get out? I must have been near 25 miles northeast of Toba Inlet when I was kidnapped. This fellow must have travelled at least 25 miles in the three hours he carried me. If he went west we would be near salt water — same thing if he went south — therefore he must have gone northeast. If I then keep going south and over two mountains, I must hit salt water someplace between Lund and Vancouver.

The following day I did not see the old lady till about 4:00 p.m. She came home with her arms full of grass and twigs and of all kinds of spruce and hemlock as well as some kind of nuts that grow in the ground. I have seen lots of them on Vancouver Island. The young fellow went up the mountain to the east every day, he could climb better than a mountain goat. He picked some kind of grass with long sweet roots. He gave me some one day — they tasted very sweet. I gave him another snuff box with about a teaspoon of snuff in it. He tasted it, then went to the old man — he licked it with his tongue. They had a long chat. I made a dipper from a milk can. I made many dippers — you can use them for pots too — you cut two slits near the top of any can — then cut a limb from any small tree — cut down back of the limb down the stem of the tree — then taper the part you cut from the stem. Then cut a hole in the tapered part, slide the tapered part in the slit you have made in the can, and you have a good handle on your can. I threw one over to the young fellow, that was playing near my camp, he picked it up and looked at it then he went to the old man and showed it to him. They had a long chatter. Then he came to me, pointed at the dipper then at his sister. I could see that he wanted one for her too. I had other peas and carrots, so I made one for his sister. He was standing only eight feet away from me. When I had made the dipper, I dipped it in water and drank from it, he was very pleased, almost smiled at me. Then I took a chew of snuff, smacked my lips, said that's good.

The young fellow pointed to the old man, said something that sounded like "Ook." I got the idea that the old man liked snuff, and the young fellow wanted a box for the old man. I shook my head. I motioned with my hands for the old man to come to me. I do not think the young fellow understood what I meant. He went to his sister and gave her the dipper I made for her. They did not come near me again that day. I had now been here six days, but I was sure I was making progress. If only I could get the old man to come over to me, get him to eat a full box of snuff that would kill him for sure, and that way kill himself, I wouldn't be guilty of murder.

The old lady was a meek old thing. The young fellow was by this time quite friendly. The girl would not hurt anybody. Her chest was flat like a boy's — no development like young ladies. I am sure if I could get the old man out of the way I could easily have brought this girl out with me to civilization. But what good would that have been? I would have to keep her in a cage for public display. I don't think we have any right to force our way of life on other people, and I don't think they would like it. (The noise and racket in a modern city they would not like any more than I do.)

The young fellow might have been between 11-18 years old and about seven feet tall and might weight about 300 lbs. His chest would be 50-55 inches, his waist about 36-38 inches. He had wide jaws, narrow forehead, that slanted upward round at the back about four or five inches higher than the forehead. The hair on their heads was about six inches long. The hair on the rest of their body was short and thick in places. The women's hair on the forehead had an upward turn like some women have — they call it bangs, among women's hair-do's. Nowadays the old lady could have been anything between 40-70 years old. She was over seven feet tall. She would be about 500-600 pounds.

She had very wide hips, and a goose-like walk. She was not built for beauty or speed. Some of those lovable brassieres and uplifts would have been a great improvement on her looks and her figure. The man's eyeteeth were longer than the rest of the teeth, but not long enough to be called tusks. The old man must have been near eight feet tall. Big barrel chest and big hump on his back — powerful shoulders, his biceps on upper arm were enormous and tapered down to his elbows. His forearms were longer than common people have, but well proportioned. His hands were wide, the palm was long and broad, and hollow like a scoop. His fingers were short in proportion to the rest of his hand. His fingernails were like chisels. The only place they had no hair was inside their hands and the soles of their feet and upper part of the nose and eyelids. I never did see their ears, they were covered with hair hanging over them.

If the old man were to wear a collar it would have to be at least 30 inches. I have no idea what size shoes they would need. I was watching the young fellow's foot one day when he was sitting down. The soles of his feet seemed to be padded like a dog's foot, and the big toe was longer than the rest and very strong. In mountain climbing all he needed was footing for his big toe. They were very agile. To sit down they turned their knees out and came straight down. To rise they came straight up without help of hands or arms. I don't think this valley was their permanent home. I think they move from place to place, as food is available in different localities. They might eat meat, but I never saw them eat meat, or do any cooking.

I think this was probably a stopover place and the plants with sweet roots on the mountain side might have been in season this time of the year. They seem to be most interested in them. The roots have a very sweet and satisfying taste. They always seem to do everything for a reason, wasted no time on anything they did not need. When they were not looking for food, the old man and the old lady were resting, but the boy and the girl were always climbing something or some other exercise. A favorite position was to take hold of his feet with his hands and balance on his rump, then bounce forward. The idea seems to be to see how far he could go without his feet or hands touching the ground. Sometimes he made 20 feet.

Albert Ostman in 1977

Albert couldn't stop wondering what they wanted with him... Had he become their pet? Was he livestock?

He never once felt threatened, but still wondered how this ordeal was going to end. They surely must have known that he couldn't stay there indefinitely. Interestingly enough, the old man was coming closer and closer to Albert each day. He seemed very interested in Albert's can of snuff, and one morning after breakfast, the old man and the boy came over and sat down just ten feet away from Albert. He was making a pot of coffee, with shag and branches for kindling, and with a match, he ignited the labels from his cans to start the fire.

The coffee was brewed very strong and once it started boiling, it emitted a nice fog of aroma. Albert sat there eating his hard tack which was slathered heavily with butter and sipped his coffee. The old man and the boy continued to watch. Albert smacked his lips... Over dramatizing the effect of the taste of the food. He wanted his captors to really think that he was eating something delicious, and exaggerated this by rubbing his belly and smacking his lips. Albert actually enjoyed the curiosity of his captors.

He set his coffee down and pulled out his can of snuff. He took a small pinch - he only had two cans left - and before he could close the lid, the old man reached out for it. Not wanting to waste it, Albert held it out to him, allowing for him to take a pinch. Instead, the old man grabbed the entire can, and poured it into his mouth. Then, with his tongue, he licked the inside of the tin.

After a few minutes his eyes began to roll over in his head, he was looking straight up. I could see he was sick. Then he grabbed my coffee can that was quite cold by this time, he emptied that in his mouth, grounds and all. That did no good. He stuck his head between his legs and rolled forwards a few times away from me. Then he began to squeal like a stuck pig. I grabbed my rifle. I said to myself, "This is it. If he comes for me I will shoot him plumb between his eyes." But he started for the spring, he wanted water. I packed my sleeping bag in my pack sack with the few cans I had left. The young fellow ran over to his mother. Then she began to squeal. I started for the opening in the wall — and I just made it. The old lady was right behind me. I fired one shot at the rock over her head.

I guess she had never seen a rifle fired before. She turned and ran inside the wall. I injected another shell in the barrel of my rifle and started downhill, looking back over my shoulder every so often to see if they were coming. I was in a canyon, and good travelling and I made fast time. Must have made three miles in some world record time. I came to a turn in the canyon and I had the sun on my left, that meant I was going south, and the canyon turned west. I decided to climb the ridge ahead of me. I knew that I must have two mountain ridges between me and salt water and by climbing this ridge I would have a good view of this canyon, so I could see if the Sasquatch were coming after me. I had a light pack and was making good time up this hill. I stopped soon after to look back to where I came from, but nobody followed me. As I came over the ridge I could see Mt. Baker, then I knew I was going in the right direction.

I was hungry and tired. I opened my packsack to see what I had to eat. I decided to rest here for a while. I had a good view of the mountain side, and if the old man was coming I had the advantage because I was up above him. To get me he would have to come up a steep hill. And that might not be so easy after stopping a few 30-30 bullets. I had made up my mind this was my last chance, and this would be a fight to the finish ... I rested here for two hours. It was 3:00 p.m. when I started down the mountain side. It was nice going, not too steep and not too much underbrush.

When I got near the bottom, I shot a big blue grouse. She was sitting on a windfall, looking right at me, only a hundred feet away. I shot her neck right off.

I made it down the creek at the bottom of this canyon. I felt I was safe now. I made a fire between two big boulders, roasted the grouse. Next morning when I woke up, I was feeling terrible. My feet were sore from dirty socks. My legs were sore, my stomach was upset from that grouse that I ate the night before. I was not too sure I was going to make it up that mountain. I finally made the top, but it took me six hours to get there. It was cloudy, visibility about a mile.

I knew I had to go down hill. After about two hours I got down to the heavy timber and sat down to rest. I could hear a motor running hard at times, then stop. I listened to this for a while and decided the sound was from a gas donkey. Someone was logging in the neighborhood.

I told them I was a prospector and was lost ... I did not like to tell them I had been kidnapped by a Sasquatch, as if I had told them, they would probably have said, he is crazy too.

The following day I went down from this camp on Salmon Arm Branch of Sechelt Inlet. From there I got the Union Boat back to Vancouver. That was my last prospecting trip, and my only experience with what is known as Sasquatches.

(The italic portions are lifted from a conversation Albert had with author John Green. The story was later recounted in John Green's book, Sasquatch: The Apes Among Us.)

Des Moines ProBoards

http://desmoinesmusic.proboards.com/index.cgi Here's a fellow site that shares Des Moines' news and everything music. Remember, sharing is caring folks!

Coffee Shop Blogging

Geez... Where have I been?

The last time I posted anything on here was years ago, it seems. Through a long series of unfortunate events, I lost my internet connection at home about a month ago. It's taken me this long to find a suitable spot for blogging... One that fit's my criteria, which is basically anywhere that isn't a library. I found a groovy little coffee shop on the Newton square that has free wi-fi and this customer base creates a suitable atmosphere for blogging. I am surrounded by hipsters, chicksters, old lady teacher types and liberals... Which make a for a relaxing setting. It's not too quiet, but the background noise isn't enough to pull my focus away from the deed at hand. The name of this place is Uncle Nancy's and it sits on the town square... Whenever you visit Newton and you are in need of an afternoon red-eye, this is the place.

I am a bit rusty. This writing thing isn't something that one can walk away from and then just dive back into head first. I have several drafts started that need finishing, and (lack of) motivation has been a factor. It's a building process, and I am thinking it requires taking baby steps. Finding this hip little wi-fi spot is a huge step forward.

I have given Facebook Page administrator duties to the lovely Rita S, as she has around-the-clock internet connection AND a firm grasp of the local music scene. She will keep you posted with the latest occurences, and general information as it comes to fruition. She will also be given correspondant duties and access to the the blog itself, and we look forward to her creative input. That's one way we are "growing" into the new year.

(If you want to "LIKE" our Facebook page, you can find it here.)

Otherwise, I will do my best to update this page as often as possible, and hopefully with 2011 upon us, I will get that cursed internet connection back up...

Thank YOU for 2010! Have a great new years everybody!

Perfect for a Sunday Morning...

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then this video is worth a million.

Technicalities

Last week we ran into some technical difficulties here at the Bigfoot Diaries. The hard drive in my laptop crashed on Monday and we were basically out of commision for the entire week. The good news is that it's been repaired. We are up and running again and everything seems to be working beautifully. The only negative to come up is the fact that now we are a week behind in well... Everything.

Thnak you for stopping by, and please be assured that once we get all of our provebial ducks in a row, we will be posting new and exciting stuff on a regular basis again. Meanwhile, check out my new pal on the west coast, Turtle Boy. He is just 18 years old, but has been mixing it up within the ranks of the LA punks for several years now. He is a fixture in the LA local music scene, and catches shows on a regular basis. He has written an excellent review of GWAR's recent show at the House of Blues on Sunset. You can read it HERE. Once we get rolling again, his writing and knowledge of the LA scene will become a regular feature on the Bigfoot Diaries.

Thank you for stopping by... We will be posting again really soon!

Five Questions with Ron Underwood

It's been said that it's a long way to the top if you wanna rock and roll... And Ron Underwood is still paying his dues.

Photo by Hadas

This seasoned rock and roller is only 29 years old, but has been a part of the national music scene for several years. You might have caught him with his band Opiate for the Masses as they travelled on the Taste of Chaos tour in 2005, or with Filter in 2008. Or perhaps you were lucky enough to catch him singing with Beezlewood... An alternative rock / dance electronica band that brought so much sexual energy to their shows that it made the Arizona desert where they came from seem icy in comparison. Both of these bands are essentially now extinct, or at the very best, on indefinite suspension, but Ron isn't slowing down. Plagued with a career that has had more highs and lows than the streets of San Fransisco, Thunderwood hasn't missed a beat in his quest for rock and roll world dominance.

His newest project is 9 Electric and they are just beginning to make a ripple in the Los Angeles music scene. It won't be long before this band (who is currently being produced by Mikey Doling) starts to make itself known on an alternative radio station near you. They are raw and powerful... Check out the trailer to "Destroy As You Go" :





As you can tell, this band isn't short on energy... Which makes the name 9 Electric seem quite appropriate. The release date for the 5 song Ep hasn't been revealed yet, but as soon as it is, The Bigfoot Diaries will let you know. What we do know is that this band is producing music at an extremely high level, and the next logical step in the transition of rock and roll includes bands like this who can provide a danceable electronic edge to the already mundane alternative sound that plagues our radio waves today. Batten down the hatches folks... There is a new wave coming.

Five Questions with Ron Underwood:

1. What can you tell me about this new band, 9 Electric?

9 Electric is a hard rock outfit with a dancey/party vibe. We just recorded 5 tracks w/ producer Mikey Doling (guitarist of Snot and Soulfly and most recently the Belgian supergroup Channel Zero). To give you an idea of the sound, Wayne Static from Static-X sings a song w me called 'Destroy As You Go'... I'm a name-droppin motherfucker hahaha! This band is a conglomerate of those bands, influence wise, and it's like metal club bangin' tunes. Like the sound of two hot lesbians giving Andrew W.K. another nosebleed. Party!

9 Electric (Photo by Hristo Shindov)

2. Before 9 Electric, you were in Opiate for the Masses. What events led to the break-up of that band?

After our last tour (with Filter, summer of 2008), Jim had to deal with some tragic events and had urged me to go on without him. He was the only other actual member in Opiate (Seven Antonopoulos and Anna Kjellberg were hired guns) and I really didn't think there was time to replace him before we went back out to support our record 'Manifesto'.

We had a song climbing the radio charts called 'Burn You Down' (reaching top 40 that week, I think) and we basically had to pull out of some radio shows. That had a huge political backlash. I was told by our manager that we had more or less been blacklisted from radio for not following through with our obligations. A decade of work came crashing down from a few small events. It was a real bummer, but I'm so stoked to be working again now with this other band.





3. Life on the road is absolutely crazy at times. What is life like backstage at an event like the Taste of Chaos tour, and what are some of your best and worst memories from all your years of touring?

Yeah, the road is nuts. Every night is a Saturday night, but every morning is a Monday. Straight up. One time my drink got spiked with wayyy too many micrograms of acid just before sound check. Not very funny- I couldn't even stand up and my whole band was yelling at me 'cause they thought I had done drugs on purpose. They played the show without me, with Jim singing.

It was horrible, and to make things worse, the guys from that band Ill Niño took me up to the mezzanine to watch my own band and were sayin' things like, (in a Brazilian accent) "look, man, that's what happens when you leave your boys high 'n' dry". I was pissed, (and trippin balls) so I started heckling my own band during the set...I was like, "old singer was better, dude!". It's hilarious in hindsight, but nobody believed me until some roadie admitted to the prank years later. I really thought I was gonna die for a couple days. What a butthole hahaha!

Photo by Jim Louvau

4. You and your bands have so far kept under the radar for the most part... Is that intentional, or would you be accepting of taking a more prominent place in the limelight?

I guess that kind of thing is never fully in anybody's hands at the individual level. Social phenomena are only based on probabilities and timing- there's no sure thing until it's occurred, like quantum mechanics. Yes, I would love to be in a more prominent spot, and I will be. I really think my time is coming. But all that does is broaden your sphere of influence, so hopefully I have something real to say at that point, before I get too jaded or begin to think my shit don't stink. That rhymed.

5. In a perfect world, Ron Underwood will be doing what in ten years?

I think that 9 Electric will be a household name by then...also, I'm really into the arts in general- I'd like to get more involved in film, not just the scores and soundtracks, which I've done quite a bit of, but the cinematography and other elements of production. So stay tuned, man...

(Bonus Question): You hear so many negatives about the LA area... What is your favorite part of living in southern California?

LA is great...Hollywood gave me a career. The best and worst thing about LA is the people. That's life in general, though. Here it's just amplified. Yeah, it's loud and dirty, but so am I. It's really conducive to the type of party-based music that I'm making at the moment.

A great producer once said that the best rappers go to the streets to write. They're not just story tellers, they're documenting a time and place. This resonates in their work, and I think that the decadence that I've experienced in LA is being passed on to others through these new bands' tunes. Word.

High and Lonesome Reunion This Saturday

When High and Lonesome came onto the scene in 1992, they became the scene.

Not since Drasbury played the Up and Under and the Laughing Iguana (Des Moines) in the late '80s had Iowa seen a band of this energy and talent this raw. Both bands were guitar bands, but while Drasbury reeked of sex and funk, High and Lonesome was more subtle... They brought the girls, but with a different sound. Like a capsule of whiskey rock, stoner blues, and mind bending psychedelia, High and Lonesome came onto the scene and people immediately took notice. Word traveled fast throughout the circuit about this exciting new band.

Brad Engeldinger was my connection to the band. I had met him a few times before at the Safari Lounge on Monday nights when the Grateful Dead cover band Jehovah's Favorite Choir would play. Those were some loose times, and it wasn't uncommon for the band to allow others to come up and join in on the jam. Brad could play the drums as well as anybody in Des Moines, and when he beat the skins it brought a whole new dimension to the sound of JFC. He and I became friends and we spent a lot of whiskey soaked monday nights together as we listened to the the music play.

Brad playing drums at Gabe's in Iowa City

Then one day Brad told me that he was teaming up with a couple of other guys to form a new band, and of course I got excited.

Those "other guys" were Darren Mathews who's slide guitar style was already a fixture in the Des Moines music scene, Dustin Connor who played bass, and Ruairi Fennessy to accompany Darren on the guitar. Rounding out the quintet was David Zollo, a flashy young keyboardist-vocalist from Iowa City who had a notebook full of songs that he had written as a teenager while living in his parent's basement. Like a cosmic shift, those songs would change a generation of music, at least in the local scene. But truth be told, High and Lonesome played all around the United States, and throughout most of Europe before they disbanded in '98.

High and Lonesome was a perfect fit for the changing time that was the early '90s. Drasbury had packed their bags for San Fransisco, and pretty much faded away at that point. Until High and Lonesome hit the scene, nobody really came in to pick up the slack. I was in my early '20s, and at a very influential age. I had no idea then that I was watching the local "changing of the guard" if you will... To me it was all rock and roll, and my 20 something attitude was more in tune to getting drunk (which I did every day) and to getting laid (which never happened), and watching live music.While I didn't realize it at the time, I was the epitome of  everything that "High and Lonesome" meant. I formed a kindred bond with the band (at least musically), and even got to a point where I'd travel back and forth from Iowa City to Des Moines just to catch them twice in a weekend.

Then I followed a girl to Ames in '93 and became less and less a part of the High and Lonesome crowd... I would only catch them on those rare times that they would travel up there. (By that time, Brad had left the band to pursue other interests, and he was replaced by Jimmy Vinner. I had lost my personal connection to the band.)

Years passed and I lost track of High and Lonesome. I was absorbed in a new music scene, and as time is prone to do, it caused me to drift away from my past. Still though, I had my High and Lonesome CDs, and would play them on occasion when the mood hit me. Since then they have gotten packed away in a box somewhere, filed away into the "Out of sight, outta mind" folder. The band drifted into oblivion as far as I knew, and would probably still be there today if it weren't for the internet and social network sites.

High and Lonesome with Jim Viner

In March of this year I caught wind of the Extremely Secret High and Lonesome Re-Union Conspiracy page on Facebook. It got me to thinking about the band, and wondering if this "conspiracy" was indeed true, or just a hyped up dream somebody was toying around Facebook with. Then I started to see David Zollo and his new band the Body Electric more and more in central Iowa... Then the buzz started between old friends, and eventually it became official about a month and a half ago. High and Lonesome was indeed reforming for a show at Peoples on Court in Des Moines on Saturday November 27. As it turns out, everybody in the band will be there for the reunion, including Brad Engeldinger and Jimmy Viner who way play drums in successive sets.

Last Thursday I was able to contact David Zollo over the phone for an interview. We talked about the the break up of High and Lonesome, the reunion, as well as a few other things relative to the scene. It was the first time I had spoken to Dave in seventeen years, and I found him to be more careful in the way he chose his words, a definite sign of maturity. One learns a lot when he lives on the road. From my standpoint, it's amazing how far we travel in our life without ever knowing we left in the first place. Luckily for me and other fans/friends of this band, it all came full circle. I didn't realize how badly I missed High and Lonesome until I heard about them reforming...

Dave Zollo

Hey Dave, I appreciate the time out of your busy schedule... So tell me, what have you been up to lately?

I have been... I was touring in Italy for three weeks. And uh, yeah. I got back about ten days ago and I've been hitting the road since I've been back.

Right on...  How was the reception in Italy?

You know... It went well. I have done a handful of tours over there but I hadn't been there since '03 and the shows went really well.

Do the people know who you are over there?

They do. Yep. We have a lot of folks who have the records.

Very good, Dave. I hear that there is a big reunion show coming up...

Yep, a week from Saturday, November 27th all the original member of High and Lonesome are going to get together and play a show at Peoples there in Des Moines.

In 1994 you were diagnosed with pre-cancerous tumors in your vocal chords...

Uh-huh.

Which ultimately led to the break-up of High and Lonesome. First of all, please tell me about that time period...

Actually that isn't what led to the break-up of High and Lonesome, we actually soldiered on for a few more years after that. I did spend a year in Nashville playing piano with a guy named Todd Snider but um... We actually carried on til about '98. But that was, as you could imagine a real traumatic period in my life. I was 24 is all, and um... I had really good surgeons here at the University of Iowa and they rebuilt my larynx and my vocal chords, and uh... You know I went back out there and it took quite a few years to let my voice recover fully.

You mentioned joining Todd Snider... Is that a main reason High and Lonesome broke up?

No no... Not at all... Nuh-uh. I played with him for a year and then came back. And High and Lonesome played for another three years after that.

So (the surgery) really wasn't a set back in your career then?

I mean it was... I would say it was a significant set back. There was a lot of label interest in High and Lonesome at that time, and you know, and it probably took six or seven years for my voice to fully recover I would say, but at the same time I continued on and still had a career and still made records, continued to play, and you know it was a set back but I dealt with it, and you know continued moving forward.

So now, 16 years later the band is reforming... I guess it's less than that actually. Why now, and how much of a struggle was it to get everybody back on the same page?

You know? Um... Over the last couple of years there has been some interest from club owners and fans of the band to see us play together again, and you know, people were consistent and some clubs kept asking and when all the guys talked about it, everyone was willing and able, and we actually rehearsed together last week and it felt great... Like riding the proverbial bike, and um... Yeah there was just demand for it, so I spoke to everybody and everybody wanted to do it.

That's funny, because my next question to you was, can we expect some rust, or have you guys been having rehearsals...

(Interrupting) You know we did a rehearsal and we're gonna do one more, you know I mean there might be a little rust... I think it would be foolish to expect that there wouldn't be any... But I think it's going to be pretty minimal... I was pleasantly surprised about how good it felt.

Very good! Tell me a little bit about being on the road with Todd Snider... Do you have a favorite memory or two?

You know?... It was... I always had a good time. I continued to play with Todd off and on really up until about a year ago, and I don't know when it was, maybe three years ago we played the Tonight Show, and that was a blast... That was a lot of fun.

Is that right?

Yeah. Yep.

With Jay Leno?

With Jay Leno, yep. And you know, we had a lot of good times. we played the Luckenbach Festival back in '96 with Jerry Jeff Walker and I got to sit in with that band. Those guys are great and that was fun.

Wow. Yeah I know he did a cover of "I'm an alright guy" on one of his albums.

Yeah. Jerry Jeff and Todd are pretty good buddies.

Jerry Jeff is a legend... For sure. So um... You and Todd are still friends today?

Absolutely. Yeah. He was going to be working on my new record, but it just didn't work out, he was going to co-produce it...

What led to his bands' downsizing in 1997 and your departure from the band?

Um... he ended up leaving MCA records, the label he was on. I think he was just realizing that it was a lot easier... And cheaper to tour as a solo act. He is a tremendous solo performer, so I think it just made sense and it still does.

You have always maintained an extensive tour schedule... What do you do when you are not on tour?

Um, you know I help raise my son Rocco who is seven, and spend a lot of time with him. And um, I play at least three or four shows you know, every week. It seems like I'm never... Never off the road.

Back to High and Lonesome... Do you think that there will be some longevity this time around, or are we still in the "lets wait and see" phase?

Ahh, yeah... This isn't a reforming of the band, as much as it is a celebration of the stuff the band did. You know we added a show in Iowa City on December 17th... But... I mean, yeah. I'm in the studio making a new record with my band the Body Electric. I don't foresee this becoming a regular thing... Maybe a couple times a year...

So no talk about recording an album with High and Lonesome?

Not right now. I mean I wouldn't rule anything out, but that's not really part of the plan.

Ok... What can we expect at the reunion show?... Any surprises?

Well... You know we are going to dig deep into the bag, and do all of the songs that the people like and the stuff we were known for doing live. Um... So, I don't think any surprises, as much as hopefully we are going to give the people what they want.

(*All photos credited to Sandra Dyas except picture of Brad)

Question Of The Authority

A great band asks a great question...

Proof That Nothing Good Happens After Midnight

Egad... It's going on 4:00 AM.

What's a wide-awake fella to do in the middle of the night when the rest of the world is lying dormant in temporary hibernation? Drunk dialing is out... Much too sober for that. Scratching my ass seems like a plausible option, but the relief is fleeting at best. Writing seems like the only sensible alternative and while that is fine and dandy, these middle of the night posts never seem to make it to to the publishing phase. More than likely this will join the countless others in the "draft" folder, far away from the public eye...

So is there even a point to this?

Most of the stuff in the draft folder is mind-numbing. I really ought to go through it sometime and drag out whatever can be salvaged and bring it to fruition. More than likely however, most of it is trash, and it will sit there like a dusty trinket on a far away shelf. I'm not like Tommy, who can muster up a creative genius at a moment's notice on sleepless nights... Most of what I write doesn't come off the cuff anymore. I try my best to bring substance to what goes on this page, and while that may or may not be the case, that's the evolutionary course my mind has taken when it comes to writing. Most of the posts that you read here have been at least a week or two in the making before they hit your eyes. Tommy on the other hand can draw from his subconscious, it seems. He can write great symphonies of loquacious splendor without even putting thought to it. It doesn't matter if it is noon, or four in the morning. Hell, it doesn't matter if he he's been awake for 9 days, that boy can tell a story with the best of 'em. Or, at the very least he always seems to have something pertinent to say.

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Speaking of fellow bloggers, I had a chance to hang out with Shep this Friday. He got into town around four o'clock in the afternoon, and we decided to go to the local tavern and have a couple of pints while making plans for the night. As it turned out, the need to plan anything never became an issue from that point forward. The pints were tasting especially well, and the entire task of finding something to do basically took care of itself.

At 42 years old, I find that I can still put 'em down like a 25 year old. However, the next day came especially harsh... I worked 14 hours on Saturday... And I was quickly reminded of my age, plus some.

Getting a drunk driving charge slammed against you while driving to work can never be a good thing... But I was actually considering that as a possibility on Saturday. Plus, I do not know about you, but draught beer seems to suck all the blood out of my brain when I drink it in large quantities, and even though it is essentially a liquid based (at least partly) with water, it dehydrates the holy Jeebus out of me. It's a hell of a thing to be be driving to a 14 hour work day quite possibly still under the influence, with a brain shot full of holes, and a mouth so dry that it causes you to gag each time you take a breath. Water was my best friend Saturday, and even now I feel a little dry around the edges. But nonetheless it was great to hang out with Shep and talk about music, sports and life, despite the near-death sensation it caused me to feel the next day.

As a side note... "The Alabama Whiskey Song" (by the Doors) and "Ms. Jackson" (by Outkast) have been on a steady loop rotation in my head since I woke up Saturday morning. Upon a phone call made to Shep earlier tonight, he confirmed playing the Doors on the jukebox. However, the story behind the  presence of "Ms. Jackson" is still unclear. (This is for real...)

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See... This post never really got off the ground, did it? I do consider it more substantial that this BBC interview Tom Jones did, in which he describes a night of drinking with Elvis. But then again, that's not saying much. I've got better stories than his from when I was drinking alone.

Maybe the next time I can't sleep I should ask Tommy to write this for me...

Introducing: Svarta Maria

As if he wasn't keeping busy enough, Magnus Sellergren is making music again.

You might remember the piece we did on him about a month ago when some of the art work he designed was used as a sleeve for Corporate Rock Knock-Out Magazine. His company, Sellergren Design has been putting out rock posters like McDonalds puts out saturated fat... Pretty much non-stop. His style is unique and ambiguous and his flair for creativity is indisputable, and one can see why his art work is in such heavy demand.

Example of Sellergren Design

Meanwhile he consistently finds the time to update Psykotronisk Videoblogg on a regular basis. (It's written in Swedish, to transpose it to English, click the TRANSLATE button in the upper right corner.) It in itself is a lion's roar of a project... One that would keep most people grounded to their computer for most of the day. His posts are not only heavy and descriptive, but they contain incredible imagery and of course video clips - the kind that are rare and fun to watch - and I guess my point is, being a blogger myself, I find it incredible that he can maintain a consistent presence on his blog and still keep pace with his design company. Imagine spray painting a beautiful mural on a brick wall with your left hand while simultaneously painting the Mona Lisa with your right... That's about as close as I can get to describe the equivalency of his creative ardor. "Creative drought" doesn't seem to be in his vocabulary, and somehow he keeps that push going forward with fervor and zeal, while not letting his work suffer from repetition.

Magnus Sellergren taking  a break

As if that wasn't enough to keep him in permament lock-down, somehow he found the time to form Svarta Maria (Myspace), a three piece punk outfit who share a love for a certain era of southern California punk. This golden age of west coast rebellion... Social Distortion, Circle Jerks, Black Flag, The Zeros and The Misfits... was forming pockets of sedition in high schools around the world, and it's attitude and sound has withstood the test of time. To this day the influence of these bands remain vital to the core of progressive music. Svarta Maria captures that sound and brings it to the modern level. It's exciting and fresh and has that skaters' edge.

I grabbed Magnus away from his busy schedule and asked him a few questions about Svarta Maria. I knew that he had been involved at one time with the Dialtones and to a lesser degree, the Plastiques. In fact, I wasn't even aware of Svarta Maria until I had asked Magnus what the status was of the Plastiques and he mentioned this new band to me. Immediately I searched them out on Youtube and absolutely fell in love with their sound. It was so fresh and clear, yet reminding of a sound I listened to years ago...


What I can make from the Myspace page is that you formed this summer... You are 3 piece monster group that emulates killer So-Cal style punk from the '78-'83 era?

Well, the story goes a little bit like this: In 2009 I started up a side-project called "Gå Vidare till Norrmalmstorg", which actually is a phrase taken from Monopoly ("Advance to Boardwalk/Marble Arch") and a nice kiss-off to rich kids. The band split up and I wanted to keep doing classic Punk/HC so the idea of "Svarta Maria" took shape early on. Just like I saw Sal of Electric Frankenstein stating in an interview I wanted to make classic stuff, you know like those barely-2-minute-long 7"s that came out in the US between 1978-83. The main difference between this band and the early one was an element of darkness, that I got from The Wipers. "Over the Edge" is a damn classic and I wanted to incorporate that with the energy and sheer brilliance of early Agent Orange, The Adolescents, Circle Jerks etc. With the lyrics being in Swedish I guess that whole darkness-thing is lost on people that don't speak the language but later on I'll add translations to our MySpace. Anyway, I wrote a complete album (14 tracks) over a weekend and teamed up with Daniel, who played drums in Slut På Det Roliga and he introduced me to Simon that handles guitar and we were off! I think it took little more than a month and then we were ready to hit the stage.

The name in itself is pretty funny, meaning "Black Mariah" in English and also is one of the names used for the Indian goddess of destruction, Kali Yuga. I later on did a search on Google Sweden and it turns out Black Maria also was a prostitute in the south of Sweden in the early 1900's who was sent to jail in Växjö (!!!). It's a small world I guess.

What do "Löske" and "Slut På Det Roliga" translate in English to?

"Löske" if my understanding is correct, is an old-time Swedish phrase that roughly means "White trash". Daniel says it was an expression back in the 50's for "traveling people" (my guess it was a deragotory term used for gypsies) and they thought it was a fun band name. The band lasted throughout 2006-2009. "Slut På Det Roliga" literally means "The Fun Ends" but it's a Swedish phrase that really means something like your "There Goes the Neighborhood". They were a Youth Crew inspired HC band were Daniel played drums from 2008-2009. They have since broken up.

Simon of Svarta Maria

So what band(s) was Simon involved with before taking on the guitar chores in Svarta Maria?

Just Löske.

Do you have any upcoming gigs to promote?

Our next gig is November 19th somewhere in Växjö where we live. Don't have the details 'cause our bookings are handled by the drummer.

Daniel?... Does he keep gigs a secret until the night before or what?

No, no! It's just that he takes care of the bookings in Sweden while I focus on the outside world. Actually we're in touch with a European booking agency right now that expressed interest in us but they wanna see us hooking up with a label first that can cover some of the costs. It all boils down to the Ca$H as usual.

Describe the typical crowd at your shows... Are they younger kids?... Mostly dudes?... Hot Swedish gals?

We've only played one show so far and I gotta say it was a combo of all ages and walks of life. Surprisingly a lot of girls and women too!

What is the groupie mentality of these girls?

Well, the other guys are in relationships so I guess it's ix-nay on the roupies-gay for them, although Simon says some nice, hairy German men might make him stray from his fold. And me personally always thought using a band just in order to pick up women is the behaviour of a pathetic asshole. Think about it, if you just wanted to get laid you'd sure as hell would save a lot of time if you just brushed your teeth and worked on your damn personality instead of being stuck in a basement for six months in order to work up some material for a show! So after that last show I pretty much went home, had some coffee with some Koskenkorva on the side and watched a couple of chainsaw movies. Now, I'm getting into a relationship so just like Johnny Cash I'm walking the line!

Haha... I see. When will you be in the studio?

We just spent an afternoon recording our first four tracks, slated for a EP release entitled "Våldsamma Barn" (transl. "Violent Children"). Hopefully it'll be out pretty soon on a label and after that we'll hop into the studio to record our first full length.

Daniel of Svarta Maria

Based on the personality of the people in Svarta Maria, how is this band different from the other bands you have been involved in?

First off I gotta say these guys are at least serious when it comes to the band and where we are going! You'd be amazed if I told you some stories from previous outfits I've been in. But I'm not gonna talk shit about other people 'cause it's just bad form and karma so I'll state that I think we're a damn good little unit and share that Black Flag school of thought meaning you work hard and get your shit together! We are different personalities for sure so there are some clashes to be expected but nothing that serious. Live we're nothing short of amazing though!

Ok... Lets assume that you start touring the United States tomorrow... What band would you be most likely to share a bill with?

Oh man, nowadays I'm so damn tuned out it's ridiculous! Some of the acts on Dirtnap would be fun. New bands that I've heard and liked that'd be cool to share a stage with would be Social Cirkle, Brutal Knights, fellow Swedes The Regulations, Career Suicide, Direct Control among others. And OFF! of course! Shit man, are they awesome or what! Their first 7" EP should be in every "punks" record collection! Downright amazing stuff!

What is Svarta Maria's drug of choice?

Well, I'm a liberal when it comes to drugs but don't use them. That might sound weird but I think the government should lay off meddling with what a grown adult decides what to do and not to do with their own bodies. Same goes for alcohol. Meaning I can count the number of times I drink every year on my left hand these days. So I guess I'll have to go with coffee and cigarettes on that one. Simon says alcohol and "snus" (a dreadful concotion of ground-up tobacco that's kinda like snuff but WAY stronger! I think it's illegal in the European Union btw). Daniel is a plain snus man.

In your honest opinion, what is the best thing to happen to rock and roll since it's inception,and what is the worst?

To me they're actually the same; breaking through to the mainstream. When it happens it turns on a lot of kids to the really cool stuff. But - as we've seen every time so far - it also opens the flood gates for a lot of CRAP to be marketed as the genuine thing. So it goes in cycles about ten years long. Cool stuff appears then the shit comes and it goes underground for about ten more then resurfaces.

Where do you see Svarta Maria in 5 years... In 10?

Wow! Ten years seems to be somewhat of a long shot buddy! I'll be 46 then and to be quite honest, just reading the question made it hard for me to even fathom. Not too sure I'll be doing music at that age. In five years? I'd say three really good full length albums plus a shitload of great 7"s and EP's. Plus a couple of tours all over the place.

What are you going to do to ensure that Svarta Maria maintains that presence in the music scene without falling victim to the corporate mainstream where most bands start to lose control of their creativity, and in my opinion their original focus?

Man, I wouldn't worry about that 'cause I've been out of it for so damn long I wouldn't even know how to BE commercial to begin with! All the stuff Svarta Maria has produced so far was written with only one thing in mind: make good Punk Rock. And once I've written a song I just write another, without a single thought about it being commercial or whatever. As long as me and the band is happy with the material that's all I care about. If 5 or five million people buy our stuff is secondary and to be honest, I haven't spent one second even thinking about that.



I've been listening to "Monster i Sitt Huvud" over and over on your Myspace page... Great song! What does that translate to?

Monsters in her head - she's got pitch black thoughts

Her brain is a war and her heart has darkened
A split soul, so turn around and run
See the warning signs in her watery eyes
She's got monsters in her head and she's gonna unleash them on you

With chaos in her psyche she's looking for victims
A scapegoat to punish for all that's happened to her
A split soul, so turn around and run
See the warning signs in her watery eyes
She's got monsters in her head and she's gonna unleash them on you

Ok, so it's not a tribute to The Bigfoot Diaries?

Sorry buddy, it's about a certain kind of woman all grown men stumbled over from some time or another. With us being somewhat the same age I'd guess you know what I'm talking about.

In Honor of Veterans' Day

God bless ALL the American soldiers.

Miss Wendy at the House of Bricks

(This and all photos courtesy of CVEckian)

The Fabulous Miss Wendy finally made her return to the House of Bricks last Thursday night. To my surprise, and probably to Wendy's dismay, the place was virtually empty except for a few hardcore music fans.

I was under the impression that Miss Wendy was HUGE in Des Moines... So when I looked around during the show and saw so much wide open space, I began to wonder what happened... Promoting these concerts is a hit and miss venture, I am aware of that. And while I only have the power of the written word, I feel an obligation to Aron and Chad at Skyline Audio and Metro Concerts Live to promote the hell out of these productions... And why not? It's all in the name of supporting live and local music. When you do not show up, I feel partly responsible.

Miss Wendy (Click to enlarge)

But alas... You missed a doozy of a show and a great night at the House of Bricks.

Wendy was once dubbed the "Female Jimi Hendrix." While that might be a bit of a stretch, nobody can argue that her show isn't entertaining. The fire and passion she puts into her show, and her ability to talk the rock and rock the talk sets her apart from most of her contemporaries. She is absolutely at one with the guitar - Like Hendrix- and she has the showmanship thing down also. But perhaps the thing that sets the two axe slingers apart is the fact that Jimi was absolutely hypnotizing when he played. While Wendy is good... Very good, even... It seemed that she struggled to keep the attention of the small crowd that had gathered to hear her perform. At one point she even ventured off of the stage to retrieve people from around the bar and bring them up to the stage area. She then proceeded to play a solo on her knees on the floor in front of the stage. The band kept the beat going while she feverishly shredded the strings of her guitar with a veracity not often seen since the living days of Stevie Ray Vaughn.

At that moment she was at least captivating... But it was too late in the set. One song later and the show was over.

Getting down at the House of Bricks

The performance was absolutely great, one of the better shows I have seen at the House of Bricks. I don't blame Wendy for her lack of hypnotic skills. I think that it had more to do with the fact that nobody showed up... I mean, face it, you can't be hypnotized if you aint there.

When a crowd builds up around a stage, the musicians feed off of that, and the crowd reacts by channelling energy back to the musicians. It usually makes for a better live music experience for everybody involved. When you are playing to a large crowd, you are inducing a higher level of energy. When you are not, the opposite happens. It's hard to get your mojo working when you are playing to four solid walls.

Des Moines was blessed to be the opening stop on Miss Wendy's tour. She came out of the pits with the intensity of a flying dragon and force fed large doses of California jam down our throats, like an unstable mother feeding shards of heated sugar to a baby. We took it all... And wanted more. With that unmistakable Detroit beat backing up her west coast guitar, she and her band pounded our faces song after song, as if we were a crowd of twenty thousand and not a nearly empty bar room, as we were.

That unmistakable Detroit beat

The opening band of the night, Smoking Blindfolded who was playing when we arrived, had amassed a pretty good crowd to watch them play. As a young local band, I'm certain that they had no problem roping in their following. While this is great for the venue and the promoters, it would have been nice if the fans had stuck around (including Smoking Blindfolded themselves) to support the rest of the acts on the bill. Talk about taking it on the run... As a fan of music, it is disheartening to watch the low act on the totem pole draw in a large crowd, only to have them pack up and beat it out of there before the next band takes the stage. (If I am wrong about this. please let me know.) And if I may be so bold as to say it, I think it is kind of rude too... Like biting the hand that feeds you. Aron and Chad put a lot of time and energy into building these shows, and leaving early with your entire fan base seems a little disingenuous.

But it is what it is.

The Maw

The Maw came up next and set the tone for the night. Each time I watch these guys perform they seem to take it a step further. I really believe that it is just a matter of time before they embark on their own American tour, and get a chance to rub elbows with some of the heavy hitters in the rock and roll hemisphere. Forrest Lonefight was absolutely on fire as he always is, but on this night I paid particular attention to Joe Antelman's bass lines. He was grooving, man... I was wondering if he was playing especially well on this night, or if I had possibly missed something the other two times I watched The Maw play. I'm still trying to figure that out... All I know, is that he had me riding the groove train, and I didn't care where we were going. I am telling you my dear readers, in stone cold seriousness... If you only make it to one live show in Des Moines this year, go and see The Maw. Do it now before they are systematically gone forever.

On this night however, the star was The Fabulous Miss Wendy. Over the last few months she has endured her share of hardships, and this tour in a sense, is her victory lap. While the crowd was thin inside the House of Bricks on Thursday night, those of us who attended were treated to an evening we won't soon forget. Wendy is stronger than ever...  As I talked with her in the past, I got the sense that she was overcome with worry and apprehension... I didn't get that from her on Thursday. She seems poised to take the next step in her musical journey and use those setbacks as a stepping stone to the next level. I really don't have any doubt that she will accomplish any less than that, especially with this new band she has assembled.

Miss Wendy's band is REALLY GOOD... And those of you who didn't make it to the show not only missed a rising star, but also something very majestic.

The shame you must be feeling...