Funky Hard Bop Punkers, Bakers

Say, everybody: call this cake baked, have a slice, and share!
Entertain idea of a 12" artefact for your 'lazy' friend, Susan.

 

...regarding your question, I’d entertain hard-hard bop, skate-rock, tripmaker punk rock. Or put simply, spiritual inoculation. This may suit where your head is — now and in the past — with enthusiasm for R&B, blues, hard bop jazz, funk, “latin twang,” and punk rock: Intentional avoidance of meathead sensibility, with clear presence of muscle and ability [wink], philo-sci-fi lyrics, humor, heart, intellectual, emotional intelligence, voice and cert not for the least: espanich. Bright, respectable, thoughtful.

Weird that in 1964 The Kinks rejected the R&B label...called their music “Expression” on the BBC...but I guess they were “moving it forward,” so whatevs. Maybe, then, Big Crux plays “Distress Signal Music” rejecting boundaries, form, attitudes, etc., while celebrating the history in it. Know what i mean, Electric Lady?

By cruising-nature, Ponchito is inclusive and therefore outwardly makes “rejection” a slippery term. I opted for “Distress Signal music” referencing sci-fi elements and what I believe to be genuine efforts to reach people. Like a bizarro Ridley Scott film — where someone responds to a deep space (outlier punk) “beacon” and upon contact picks up an unexpected stow-away having awoken from hypersleep — the listener’s chest bursts open while “eating a bowlful of noodles,” but instead of reptilian destructive rage and horror, the alien within the host turns out to be a joyful, healing being a la Nic Schmidt’s reaction to Big Crux Is a Big Funk 7” ep. Hopefully, Ponchito’s unintelligible message of tap dancing & farting creatures will be deciphered in this, a sort of version of the Kilgore Trout tale, so we won’t have to see our heroes brained with a golf club before they dig it.

And about the time I cut off Sherman Alexie at Dick’s Burgers…the short and skinny — of which he is neither — is the as-yet stranger and I approached the counter almost in unison; I was slightly ahead. I turned to beg the stranger’s pardon when I realized who it was. I said, “hey, you’re Richard Sherman!” RS: “you mean Sherman Alexie…” [shrug]. I ordered a Deluxe and a chocolate shake. To my chagrin, I didn’t have enough cash. SA throws down two bones: “here dude, get your burger, get your burger. You can tell your friends Richard Sherman bought you a hamburger.” [smile]. CG: “No, I can’t take your money, but thank you! I’ll tell my friends Sherman Alexie tried to buy me a burger.” We’re now exploring a literary skate-punk band called Guns, Germs and Steel Totin’ Whiteys…

Nice & Friendly,
Cruxy Grimace