Getting Misty-Eyed Over The Milkmen

I had a really great thought the other day for a post. I was driving and mapped the whole thing out in my head. Trust me, it was a fantastically interesting idea.

And, now that I'm in front of my computer, I've forgotten it.

Age?

Seasonal affective disorder?

Or maybe it could be that I haven't been to a live show in almost two months. I feel like I'm crawling out of my skin. I'm feeding myself a steady stream of live recordings but it's just not the same.

I was supposed to see Father John Misty in November. But I've been spending a good part of my life recently on the road for work. I don't think this would have gone over too well: "Honey, great to see you and the kids. Boy it's been a long week of traveling. I missed you all. And, I'm going out tonight for a show."

As great as Father John Misty (and previous incarnations) is, a stable home life is better.*



I'm only writing a blog and I've never run down the street with my pants to my knees (as far as I know). But I still love this song and the entire album; it's up there with Jack White and Neil Young for album of the year.

Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band also played Denver earlier this week. Normally I would've been there and spent the day waiting for a pit wristband. But I was in Florida. Here's a picture from the Dry Tortugas. I know, boo-f'n-hoo...

Alice Cooper also played Denver this week. Again, I was in Florida. See the above picture and loathe me.  Especially if it's cold where you are. It wasn't cold in Florida. Just weird.

So I'm looking for a December show. The NYE runs are an option (Yonder in Boulder, SCI in Broomfield, etc.). But that's another whole month away. I need something now. I'm reduced to trolling Pollstar.

In the meantime, an all-time great band has released some new music. The Dead Milkmen are blowing up keyboards now. I don't know what I prefer more - the snotty anger of "Dark Clouds Gather Over Middlemarch" or the snotty angry humor of "Ronald Reagan Killed The Black Dahlia."



I love listening to music made by people old enough to remember the Reagan era as one giant joke and not the gauzy hero-worship we're too often force-fed. Give it a listen. Then go buy it so the band can make more than $0.000000000000001 off your Spotify listen.


*Sorry the clip has an ad attached to it. But it's really a fine version of the song. Down with the man, though. Except the man who made all the stuff I own. That man is OK. It's just all the other corporate mans I want to down.