Blitzen Trapper - Songbook: A Night Of Stories & Songs

Spune presents

Blitzen Trapper - Songbook: A Night Of Stories & Songs

Kacy & Clayton

Sun, October 9, 2016

8:00 pm

Club Dada

Dallas, TX

$19 - $22

This event is all ages

Blitzen Trapper
Blitzen Trapper
I am indistinguishable from my memories, inseparable from this place I've always lived. Songs made of
rhymes and these rhymes like maps to the bizarre hinterlands of what we know and love. This is Blitzen
Trapper's seventh record for the books, another bizarre string of tales and touchstones, more beats and banjos
by far than anything to date, since, well we figured a straight line between two points is preferable. At this point
the road is home and home is home, which is to say there is no home left for me because at a certain point you
can never go home as the old adage seems to more than imply.
The pac-northwest is a place of synthesis, a backwater for slag and leftovers, culturally speaking,
and
VII
like this, like all my records it's a synthesis of a whole mess of things. Our music, lovingly called 'Rocky
Mountain Whoop-ass', a term itself coined by close associates to refer to what we play though our particular
mountains are a more volcanic spur of the Rockies and so more solitary, brings together the strut, the twist, the
headbang and the hillbilly tap, though in some cases it merely makes people want to drink or procreate. I feel
confident this genre will, if not become de facto will perform as an at least marginally amusing handle for music
writers with any interest.
Memories of Oregon:
The JD drinking, robotripping, dope smoking experimentation of youth. And even further back the
country gospel tabernacle meetings out in Brooks, falling asleep as a child on hard wood benches while the
country band plays
Just A Closer Walk With Thee
, the prayers of the saints rising for all us wandering youth.
Each of these songs starts from a small place, like a headwaters, a remembrance and then widens into a
song. For instance, that old wreck of a shack buried in evergreen and murky darkness at the bend in the road up
on Jackson Hill where we used to drink and never failed to give me a chill driving by in the old Impala for its
implacable mystery, where
Feel the Chill
takes place.
Drive on Up
, it seems you're always driving on up to something, into the mountains to see a girlfriend
above the reservoir where she lives in a single wide with her mom and a cougar stalks us at fifty yards through
the brush, she says to bang sticks but never look it in the eye.
A hundred degree day out at the John Day, walking through the high desert in sneakers coming on a
cow skull and then the rest of its bleached bones spread for near on a mile and realizing the thirst of the
creatures in these hills. And I'm no different. And you have
Thirsty Man
, where love like rain falls in the
wasteland and slips through the fingers for love is a thing that cannot be held but only felt and released.
And of course there are those songs I keep writing over and over again,
Ever Loved Once
with all its
regrets and tragic lost love,
Don't be a Stranger
its hopeful cousin but they all still point to the same worn out
place in the heart of old E. Earley. And hey, we all have that place, that worn spot on the heart like the chew
canister circle on the back pocket of blue jeans, or that one shred in the green felt of the table where you
ground the stick in too hard for drinking. That one love that got away or that one you watched leave driving slow
in moonlight over the gravel at night cause the things of the earth will leave you aching and/or empty as a fifth
at sunrise.
May these songs minister in ways mysterious and eternal, or at least maybe make you shake a hip.

E. Earley
Kacy & Clayton
The music of Kacy and Clayton exists outside of time, and burgeons with beautiful contradictions. It's psychedelic and traditional, contemporary and vintage, melancholic and joyous. All at once, it showcases a slightly psych-folk sound of Linda Perhacs, Fleet Foxes, and First Aid Kit; rare country blues records and English folk tunes; and 1920s disaster songs and murder ballads. Their songs often are sugar-coated pills, tales of murderous jealousy, dilapidated graveyards, and infanticide, all delivered with Kacy Anderson's sweet, lithe voice, and Clayton Linthicum's hypnotic fingerpicking.

Their latest album, Strange Country, strays away from straightforward folk, delivering a sound that pairs Laurel Canyon vibes with Dustbowl-era drama. And for the duo, the subject matter is literally close to home. They're second cousins who have grown up in the Wood Mountain Uplands, an isolated region of southern Saskatchewan. It is ranch country, very remote, with a landscape punctuated with hills, 12 miles from the Montana border. Neighbors were scarce, and their school bus ride was a long drive into town. "Where we come from it's kind of a step behind society," Kacy, 19, says, "We had a lot of time to take in our surroundings. Characters are still very strong."

They learned music by picking up rare vinyl at record stores — the closest, the 21-year-old Clayton says, was five hours away — and Kacy troweled through Wikipedia to discover long-forgotten bands and musicians. But even Internet was unreliable in their area. The remoteness of their town required many hours in the car, so the long trips became educational moments. "I found out about Doc Watson and The Carter Family from a tape that my grandpa had in his car," Clayton says, "and I found out about Hank Snow and Bob Wills from a neighbor who came up on 1940s and '50s country music."

Clayton would experiment with instruments scattered in his great-uncle Carl's basement, occasionally performing with Kacy and her sisters (Carl's grandchildren). There wasn't much of a conventional music scene where they lived. However, Kacy & Clayton spent most of their Sunday evenings at the seniors home performing with and for local geriatrics. To rehearse, the two cousins living six miles apart often illegally drove to each other's houses before they had driver's licenses.
Venue Information:
Club Dada
2720 Elm St.
Dallas, TX, 75226
http://dadadallas.com/