I listened to Mike Watt’s Live from Pedro podcast yesterday, which Jason sent me a link to. He was recording it in Portland and had Richard Meltzer as a guest. I was in a steep funk and needed to employ all funk-busting maneuvres. At lunch break I rode my bike down to Hawaiin Time and took my food over to the Amazon slough and sat by the bridge that takes the bike path over the water and on down West 11th. Just me, my Ipod, and a few baby ducks. I listened to Watt and Meltzer rap about beat poets, Bob Dylan’s folky albums that came out just before Time Out of Mind, which Meltzer says is the best record Dylan has done. I was glad to hear him say that because I have always thought so but wondered if it was sacreligious to say so.
When you hear Meltzer talking about how his lady was playing Mingus at her place on their first date—that’s no disk-jockey schtick. Pithecanthus Erectus, was that the song? I could really hear the horns talking/singing in kind of absurd, wild animal hoots and shrieks—evolution being an idea that dignifies our current state. (And in all great love relationships we know how thin the veneer is, over our current state as Evolved Beings.) Just the other day I stepped on the cat and for just a second was back in the trees, parting the shady fronds when suddenly…in the shadows…a wild panther. Well, a fat, domesticated cat who was mad at me—kind of chunky and domesticated myself.