When you don't know where you're going any road will get you there. Welcome to There, Population: Us, but mostly me right now. I had Ken Stringfellow's "Down Like Me" stuck in my brain because it popped up earlier on my Slacker radio station devoted to music from Black Rebels Motorcycle Club. No, I don't know how I got from music like this to music like this but that's not really the point (and when we get to to it you will NOT thank me), though the latter tune is just driven. YIPES! (and kudos for creative use of suspenders)
I've enjoyed Stringfellow from The Posies, through pieces of REM and including his work with parts and parcels of Big Star who, when Alex Chilton walked the earth, I always thought were brilliant. Stringfellow is a remarkable band all by himself and so he's a very pleasant guest to have in your head. But that's not getting us any closer to whatever point these words have today, assuming there is one at all.
While waiting for something resembling light to show up on the Down Like Me video clip I noticed in the margin a thumbnail for Fred Goes Swimming. This is a video I believe we will NEVER have to worry about youtube slapping a fifteen second commercial onto the header. I just do not see it happening and it's only when I squint really hard that I can see anything vaguely related to a point of a series involving this Fred rather than the one who was immortalized for all time in spray paint on the friedhof wall near Eschenhiemer Tor I used to pass every afternoon that proclaimed "United Freds gegen United States."
And if it makes you feel better, I had no idea who that Fred was, either. And let's not mention Judy or Kevin while we're at it, okay? If you're still reading this after all of that we're going to need to adjust the population sign. Downwards.
-bill kenny
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