Getting The Axemen or How to enjoy a gig you miss

We (Pam and I) missed the entire musical portion of the Axemen/Times New Viking gig on Friday in Deep Ellum. Getting down to The Lounge on Elm after Pam got off late from work was a push. Let me tell you this, though. Never rely on those fucking GPS machines in your Crackberry or like device. That dumb digital voice was telling Pam to turn entirely too late to actually make the 3 lane shift across Friday night Big D traffic. The three brutal car accidents we saw before we actually made it to the venue somehow seemed to presage what might happen to us if we continued to rely on satellites and dated surveillance equipment, so I insisted we ditch its almost cruel directives and rely on the picture I’d stored in my brain from mapping in the quaint old style of Google Maps. This in itself is nearing is an excursion which may turn out to be an adult version of Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride. I may be experiencing early-onset dementia judging from the difficulty I’ve had remembering anything trivial for the last few months. This has occurred mostly in conversations about bands and writers—the worst time for memory gaps to spread out before you because it’s always with these encyclopedic, geekazoid culturenauts with which you’re having said conversations, and almost nothing is worse than crashing your GTO into a pothole mid-spiel because of ambitious employ of high-beams when everyone knows a dense fog demands slowing down and clicking over to low lights.

Though Pam and I missed the music, we were fortunate to hang out with Lee and New Zealand’s The Axemen and make a trip over to Dealy Plaza after the equipment was loaded into their rental. I’ll refer you over to Lee for firsthand reportage of the sounds. I was fairly wrecked that I missed both of those bands, but hopefully the future holds at least a few more opportunities to see ‘em.

The Axemen are an amiable and humble bunch and all seemed to be conspiracy buffs, with mini-rants on, of course, Kennedy, but also Waco. I was walking and talking with Stu, the drummer, trying to explain to him my take on how conspiracy theory in America has been hijacked by right-wing nutters and that it didn’t serve the same philosophical entertainments as it once had for me, but we didn’t have the necessary allotment of time to get into it. What happened instead was akin, on my part, to a conversation partially heard through a wall of a cheap motel room: “…conspiracy…at one time…hacking ontology and epi…right wing…paranoia serious…” There was the obligatory mention of Robert Anton Wilson. I can only speak for myself, but I was far too frazzled by this point to get my point across and any meaning which might have arrived at its intended destination was mostly debris the result of a night of pile-ups and trying to crunch too much into too little space.

I did have a great, brief conversation with Dragan (guitars) as we talked about New Zealand’s famously brilliant scene(s). I mentioned that within the diversity NZ bands have represented over the years that there seems to be a shared aesthetic emanating from that beautiful, tiny island. Dragan noted that it might have something to do with the economics for artists there. He said that there was a lot of equipment sharing happening, so it stands to reason that NZ seems to represent emulations, this in the grandest sense of the word, where it means that a scene is a cohesive whole. Everyone who loves NZ pop and and sub-non-genres realizes that upon a closer look underneath the surface there are worlds of distinction happening in their music, layers obscuring layers and a rich history of psych, punk, pop and all points in between (and way outside of the perimeter) , but I thought Dragan’s comments were a noteworthy paradox within the conversation about individualism and art, and whatever your take might be, the parallels and mirrors of aesthetics occur within a great diversity of personalities, attitudes and approaches. The Axemen’s music is itself a microcosm of the strange clash of contradiction and similarity New Zealand seems to have it’s thumb all over.

Regardless of our missing the music, it turned into a pretty swell and eventful after-hours crash of cultures, including a connect-the-ATMdots convoy in order to withdraw the cash to get a copy of their reissue “Scary! Part III,” (Siltbreeze). Always best to try and get some merch from worthy bands while they’re on the road, for obvious reasons.

And great to hang out with Lee, with our usual conversation, and even better that Pam was finally able to make it out and participate. There are some great events on the horizon in Dallas, but I’ll leave mention of those until later.

I found out along the way that Borbeto is playing in Houston sometime this upcoming week. Not sure yet if I’ll be able to make that, but if I do, expect the same mangled accounts of that as well. I’ll probably lean heavily on previous shows and write my 7th grade compare and contrast essay.

One other thing: The Axemen and Times New Viking are playing Birmingham this upcoming Wed–so do yourself a favor and support both of these great bands. For anyone interested in a long-player, you have to check out one of New Zealand’s best and most criminally kept secrets. You can find a tight historical summary of The Axemen here.

Until next time, strap yourself into Lil’ Bastard lest you find your genitalia spread across your stylized dashboard instruments.