Musical catharsis
Shift happens – music helps smooth things out

Musical catharsis

The Osees' John Dwyer during a recent show in Shiprock. / Photo by Christopher Barbee

Jon E. Lynch - 10/31/2024

Hey you. It’s been a minute. Semi-apologies for being absent these last two months. I tried desperately, and in vain, to scribble off my agreed-upon wordcount for this column, and it simply wasn’t happening. My mind and body had other agendas, and I’m just along for the welcomely disorienting, often jarring, ride. I’ve felt a series of upending shifts, some of which are only now starting to settle. 

Thanks to anyone who’s bent an ear since mid-August. You know who you are, and you are loved and appreciated beyond adequate articulation. 

Part of my personal catharsis has been aided by music – unsurprising to those who know me. In the past few weeks, I was fortunate to see a thing or two. Local legends and purveyors of Western garage-twang the Lawn Chair Kings segued us into fall at the Mancos Brewery. There was joy and reverie, and their sunsets are better over there. 

Another highlight was arguably one of the greatest live rock and roll (and punk, psych, krautrock and avant f***-all) bands of the last decade, Osees (aka OCS, The Ohsees, Thee Oh Sees, Oh Sees.) They completely transmogrified the faces, hearts and psyches of attendees that overcame distance, time and space to catch the late, late gig at the Shiprock Chapter House in New Mexico. Immense thanks and sincere reverence to Manny and the Navajo Reservation for having me.

Last week, Tucson’s Calexico helped usher in a year-long celebration of Durango’s finest college and community radio station, KDUR (Hey! I work there!) The band splendidly melded all the styles and sounds of the various tendrils of Latin rock, indie rock, Americana and more. Depending on whom you asked, I’m missing at minimum four other genre identifiers. Point is, everyone in the near sold-out Community Concert Hall had a total gas, and the band did too. 

Just days ago, I rounded out the weekend at the Tumbleroot in Santa Fe with Slim Cessna’s Auto Club opening for Kid Congo Powers and The Pink Monkey Birds. SCAC shows are nearly always brilliant with their pointed, riveting take on revivalist gothic country and post-punk. Hearing the new songs and harmonies with Slim’s son George were sweet. But it was the headliner, the inimitable Kid Congo – with his Cheshire grin, fabulous canary-sparkled blazer and wholly authentic self – that made it all worthwhile. At 65, the queer Chicano rock and roll icon exuded a youthfulness that belied his years. Hearing him play seminal songs from his former bands, The Cramps and The Gun Club, along with cuts from his latest release, “That Delicious Vice,” bound it all together with a hefty knot.

Last but no least, I’d like to relay my friends’ album recommendations for “joyful, solace or comfort” and was given many worthy listens to distract from the political discourse. These include but are not limited to: Carla Morrison’s minor chord laden and divinely swoon-able “Déjenme Llorar;” Chan Marshall aka Cat Power’s 2003 opus “You Are Free;” and Gillian Welch’s 2001 classic “Time (The Revelator).” There were also a few male-fronted picks, which I feel obliged to mention: The Magnetic Fields “69 Love Songs” (which was mentioned twice by two different friends); Sufjan Stevens’ “Illinoise;” Nirvana MTV Unplugged in New York; Tom Petty “Wildflowers;” R.E.M.’s “Life’s Rich Pageant;” The Stone Roses “The Stone Roses;” and Grateful Dead’s “American Beauty.” If you’re feeling a little off, give any of these a spin. Can’t hurt. 

Which reminds me: are you doing OK? How are you holding up? Are you freaked the eff out by the election? Are you scared that deep-seeded patriarchal indoctrination, systemic racism and overt misogyny might keep our nation from the first female president? Yeah, me too.

Last week “Run the Jewels 2,” the second studio album from American hip hop duo Run the Jewels, turned 10. In honor of that, allow me to remind those against us of a somewhat infamous line from the song “Oh My Darling Don’t Cry.” Decorum and an uptight editor prevents me from writing it in this family paper, so you’ll have to google it.

As always, reach out with questions, comments and gripes. Especially the gripes. I’m guessing there are many. KDUR_PD@fortlewis.edu 

   

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