Top Jimmy Cooks, Top Jimmy Swings, He’s Got the Look… Top Jimmy, He’s the King
Key key keys, black, staring at me. Some might say there is music beneath my fingers, but it’s just the clack clack clamoring of racing thoughts from a lazy mind. I drank wayyyy too much last night, and I have the drunken texts to prove it.
This morning, beneath the clamoring, there is the din of distant and immediate memories. This process of remembering is really an exercise in remembering to forget. Forget how you felt that day, under an overcast sky, with the hint of cold rain to come. Not unlike these days, but on the other side of pendulum’s arc – we were all at once running from the sun.
But not now – NO! Now we run towards the light, the heat, like skipping over crags, dancing on top of blasted boulders that once stood in our way. We feel we feel we feel – too much, not enough.
I didn’t mean to drink so much, I swear. It had been a while since the last heavy night, and my tolerance was down, down, down – out of bounds. I couldn’t find it this morning when I woke up at 5, with a raging headache and dizzy spinnys all the way home. I reached into empty air for bottles of pills to make the war between good and evil stop for a minute, but it never does.
The war… waged and staged has been long fraught with thoughts of all kinds, the musical kind and the spiritual kind, the kind we reserve for friends close and far. And last night it was on stage that I saw both. I saw my friends old and new, and visions of the one who left too soon. Looking around I saw her in the girl down front, I saw her holding court at the bar, I saw her outside bumming a smoke from a passerby… as long as we remember to forget to remember to forget, she’s everywhere as music. And that’s where we are too.
Or are we? Where were you, pray tell? For the first (time) in quite some (time) there were more of them than us, which is promising for future spells waiting to be cast out (Coney). Cast away, Wilson – King of Prussia… kings county, YES YES YES.
Shhhh, it’s not lunacy if you disjoin these thoughts.
I had a great fucking night, so did the band – they were tight, feeling strong, and sexy as hell. Which goes to show that sexiness is a state of mind. Things are looking up. Don’t be a tool fool and miss the next one, Steve Brule… you’ll be snorry. (Charlie)
Wednesday, April 26, 2017: HOUSE OF YES. Brooklyn, NY
Set: Absolute Value, Accelerator, Kan Eye Tuch U?, Metaphor, Propeller, Psychic Vampires, On, When Will This End?, Savior Self
Encore: Peripheral Declination
 After PV, John thanked The House of Yes and said “Ellis Ashbrook loves this place because we’re all about consent.”
 With Enter Sandman riff lead-in
 With full band introductions and big “arena rock” ending