Free Show, Live Recording

Oh Baby,it’s cold outside

 ... But you live in CT. So you’re tougher than that, right???

 Tonight, put on an extra layer and get yer ass down to the

corner of Crown and State in New Haven.

Danglers, Vültüres, Sex and Death USA!!!!


It’ll warm the cockles of your heart.

Return of the Queen

Cousin Chet writes in:

If you get out to only one show this month, make it Wanda Jackson, on Thursday (Dec. 7) at the Musician’s Living Room, Cafe Nine. Wanda’s the Queen of Rockabilly, a living legend who hung out with Elvis and Johnny Cash back in the day. She’s got a voice that makes Lucinda Williams sound like Astrud Gilberto. The Lustre Kings get the stage smoking; 8 p.m., $15.

If you nod off at your barstool, you might as well sleep it off until Friday so you can catch the Danglers, who end a monthlong hiatus with a Cafe Nine gig, sharing the stage with psychobilly/surf gods The Vultures and Meriden’s own Sex and Death USA. Presented by DJ Drinkdeeply, 10 p.m.

Don Phee at cafe nine

Don Phee, an old friend of Darla’s, is comin’ for a visit and word is he’s going to play cafe nine tonight (Nov. 28). Don used to come by the trailer from time to time and serenade us: got a nice, edgy baritone like a nervous bullfrog. Darla might even sing for a spell, if her water don’t break.

Preach the blues

Boys:

I hear the good Rev’nd’s headin up your way to preach the Gospel to the heathens and homosexuals and Methodists. You can find him Friday night at this here house of worship. I hear they’re mighty free with that communion wine, particularly with the young’uns. Y’all could use some preachin — ’specially Dwight.

Pa.

P.S.: If Maylene turns up way up north there, you be sure to send her right back down to Nome so’s she can have her young’un among the folks that care about her and git back to sloppin the hogs.

Guess what?

Sweet darlin’ Dewey butterbuns:

Isn’t this here that same place you drug me to that time I stayed with you up north – when the cops came in an’ done took away my mai-tai? I gather they’re in some kind of trouble.

Dewey, you’n me got to talk. Remember them funny-color candies you gave me an’ told me to take one every day, even if I didn’t feel like it? Well, they didn’t work. They done tasted like horsepiss anyhow, so I jes’ ate Pez instead. An’ now I’m in a fambly way. I know it’s your’n cuz the hog-hands don’t do it the right way and Uncle Pa’s been on the whiskey agin. Where the heck are you anyway? You ain’t returned not one of my calls.

And now Aunt Ma sez I may have to go back to school so’s I can finish seventh grade an git a job at Wal-Mart. I hate Wal-Mart, Dewey, and I ain’t never worked a day in my life and don’ plan on it nohow. So I’m settin’ to catch one of them Greyhound buses and leave Nome so I can come live with you way up there in Yankee territory. I need a little money, but I know that won’t be no problem with all yer makin’ playin’ with yer band an all. I think maybe $15,000 would do it, to start.

I cain’t wait to see you – and for you to see my belly.
– Kisses, smooches and more (much more, rowr!):

Yer cousin, Maylene.

P.S.: If’n you cain’t come up with the money, I guess I could always ask yer wife.

Letter from home

My Dear Little Dewey,

Well, the cold’s comin’ on agin and jes’ this week we’ve had another three hogs die from the fever. Pa says the hoggin’s better here’n it was in West Virginia, but Lord knows there just ain’t enough hands to take care of the swine proper, and we even had to close the meth lab. Your little sister Darla is helping all she can, but she cain’t work sloppin’ no more’n 12 hours at a stretch in her condition.

Dewey, I was hopin’ you’d come on down to Nome and talk some sense into that girl, on account of how close you are and seein’ as how you two have the same daddy. It jest ain’t befittin’ a good Christian girl like Darla to go out every night drinkin’ whiskey and smoking and doin’ lord-knows-what with those boys at the roadhouse. Makes me fit to cry, and her in a fambly way and all.

Your Pa and I worry about all you boys, up there in Yankee land with all them drug addicts and no-good lawyers and Methodists and worse. Without yer Pa and me around, who’s keepin’ Dirk off the chickens and makin’ sure yer little brother cousin Eddie’s hands stay over the duvet? I’ve been on my knees with Pastor Huckabee every day, prayin’ till tears come out’n our eyes that you’ll stop playin’ that sinful rock ’n’ roll music. Don’t you know it rends the soul wide-open to the Devil? Lookit what happened to Dwight.

You boys should be back here in Nome in the loving arms of kin. Any time yer ready, jes’ send a telegram up this way and we’ll be there to meet you.

With love,
Ma Dangler

P.S.: Yer cousin Maylene was by on Wednesday and I’ll be durned if somebody ain’t done knocked her up ag’in. She won’t say who’s behind it but I know Pa didn’t have at her because he’s back on the whiskey. Well, you can imagine I told her she has no future unless she finds the no-good varmint who done it and marries him, ’specially if she don’t finish up gradeschool first so’s she can get a job at Wal-Mart. Anyhow, she says she really needs to talk to you.

Boo-shebang

‘Fraid yer little sister Darla ain’t gonna git over here and report on this boom-sheebang or whatever it is on account of it’s hog season and she’s tendin’ swine like God meant for womenfolk this time of year. If all y’all wasn’t her flesh-and-blood kin I’d be liable to lay a world of pain on you for fillin’ up her pretty little head with rock ‘n’ roll this and rock ‘n’ roll that. It’s a shameful thing for a god-fearin’ Christian lady when she has a pen full of hogs to tend to back at home, I’ll tell you what. It ain’t right when she comes to bed with sinfulness on her mind and whiskey on her breath. But I’m-a let it go fer now since y’all are family. Maybe after the slaughter’s over she’ll write a post of her own. Fer now, y’all’ll have to settle for some new Flickr photos.

– Pa

Show report

Brother Dewey reports:

Our Oct. 17 gig with Little Steven’s Underground Garage was a hoot. It started out very strange, and got more so as things went on.

We got there to find that we were to use their amps and drums, and that our set was cut from 40 minutes down to 20, and that we were moved from the second slot up to the first. Not a good sign. We looked at the set list and did some major chopping. Local faves the Mold Monkies came on first after Darla straightened out the line-up thing with the powers that be at the Toad. The MM’s rocked, and it sounded like there were a lot of people there to see them. When we got onstage, we weren’t even allowed to touch a knob on the house amps. OK… Anyway, off we went into Stormbringer, She, Etc, and Compared to What. Looking back, all of those songs were in “D”, the official key of the Danglers…oops, that was not intentional, but it happened under the stress of stripping out half of the set at the last minute. During Compared to What, Little Steven’s Go-Go girls came out and danced on stage. Very cool. Wouldn’t it be great to have them at every gig? We wouldn’t even have to change out of our pajamas, ’cause no one would be looking at us. We got the hook after 4 songs, but played one more just for “the people”. It was a joyous train wreck version of Johnny Ace. It wasn’t in “D”, but it’s a Dash Rip Rock song, so there’s your Dang D.

I’m having problems getting the pics up to Flickr right now. They’ll be up soon
TWANG!!!
-Dewey

Freakout 10.21

Chapter 10.21 from the Book of Freakout brought to you by Popeye’s Fried Chicken.