Having just returned from my months-long journey of self discovery in the wild environs of a car wash in Pico Rivera, I’ll be revealing my new found insights at the SILVERLAKE LOUNGEtomorrow night 5/25 at 8:30. Bring your thirst for heightened awareness. Or beer, anyway.
As soon as I decided to make an epic electric blues poem with quasi-religious imagery and psychocultural undertones, and who doesn’t decide that at some point in their life, embellishments and obstacles began popping up like mushrooms on a rain-soaked cowpie.
Having set the story in filthy Hollywood in the 80’s, regression therapy was necessary to recall memories which trauma and embarrassment had long since rendered inaccessible.
Then, of course, certain gods had to be appeased. Amplifiers, reputations, and even plump Norwegian rats were sacrificed behind select shrubbery throughout the city.
Songs written, record recorded, an illustrated book was needed. Duh.
Enough with the back story, already.
Colossalangeles is here.
Ain’t it grand?? that freeway sign you see is a jump-drive of the album, by the way. You know you want it.
Those trusting souls who bought their copies in advance so I could eat are getting theirs first, but you can get yours this Friday:
Who doesn’t want a shirt covered with roaches?
With said shirt, you can:
– Impress everyone with your entymological fortitude
– Gross out your mom
– Break up with someone without having to “find the words”
Be the first one on your block to proudly display an illustration from “Colossalangeles” the book/album coming out next month!
Caitlin and Andrew get a little uncomfortable when Jim gets all sincere like that but whaddaya gonna do? It’s not like he can afford a good therapist. Silverlake Lounge TONIGHT tues the 12th. Come for the harmonica, stay for the gestalt.
Thought to be eradicated as far back as the 90’s, Jim Priest syndrome seems to have returned in a virulent and disruptive form. Public health officials failed to act decisively when Jim Priest began plying his seemingly benign melodic wares in local dives as a solo act, and now it has metastasized into a band replete with a swollen, throbbing rhythm section. Now a full-blown outbreak is set to be loosed upon unsuspecting clubgoers on Friday night, August 11 at the Airliner 2419 N. Broadway Los Angeles 90031.
Protective clothing may prove ineffective, but you should probably wear something.
This is a PartyPunx ARRRT PARRRRTY so expect an avalanche of bands and art.