Tag: The Elected

The accordionist’s boot was tangled in a mangrove root. The deepening dusk of Meads Bay Pond brought with it a soft breeze and an ugly threat of bug swarms. Their chances of getting to the beach and capturing enough glowing sugar crabs were dwindling. The roots, more like underwater dreadlocks, heaved as the booted foot attempted to twist out, the accordion case held high as counterbalance. The technician glared at the spectacle briefly before shining a light on the clipboard. In the distance, a barbershop quartet with a Tuvan throat-singing baritone made it incongruous presence known. The keys to the long-range waterbikes had a floaty thing on them, but they were permanently attached to the metal clipboard, which would sink like a stone. The Governor’s Office back in The Valley would certainly hear about this.

There’s a handful of acts that can stand out in the vast prairie that makes up modern rural American music, transcending strummy acoustic guitars and introspective lyrics to make something deeper.

It’s simple mathematics. Given an “N-th Anniversary of Spinal Tap”, there is no known value for N that will not make you state “crap, Spinal tap was N years ago?”

The Bronco Busters were an all-girl outfit whose brief career had me wishing I was a bronco. One listen to their track and you’ll be feeling your oats as well.