Since the launch of Hiss & Hearse, there’s been a lot of Hearsin’ and not much Hissin’ (for anyone who hasn’t caught on yet, it’s a play on the phrase “His and Hers”). So here I am to inject a little male influence up in this joint.
I’ve been back from my trip east for just over a week now. It was an exhausting trip full of shuttling around the state of Pennsylvania to pay visits to my friends in Pittsburgh and my family in Williamsport in an attempt to see everyone I’ve ever known in such a short period of time, during which I was also trying to get some freelance work done. I was so jet-lagged most of the time, I wasn’t even sure if I was speaking English, so it’s a great wonder to me how I landed the job I went to interview for while in the Steel City.
Since being back, Kristin and I have worked on a photo shoot for Painfullyhip.com in Sacramento. Kristin did all of the photography, of course, while I did all of the light disc handling and hunger-induced moaning (note to self: always bring snacks to a shoot). One of the locations where we shot was this kind of imported world antiques store called Tasha’s. Here there was a bunch of Mexican Day of the Dead paraphernalia, including a mariachi suit with which I’m now obsessed. There was no price tag on it, though, which generally means I can’t afford it. Regardless, it looked much like this, only red:
Which reminds me…I’ve often toyed with the idea of sporting a Mexican poncho a la Clint Eastwood in his westerns. People have told me to go for it, but I’m concerned that posing off of a particular culture may offend those a part of it. But, damn, just look at how a poncho looked on this gringo!
Continuing on with the theme of the dead, at our next location, my eyes fell upon–via a show poster magneted to the refrigerator–the best damn band name I could have ever thought up but never did: Dead Western. I inquired about this band and quickly learned that it was a solo acoustic artist who possesses a deep, operatic voice. My interest piqued, I looked into him later on that night and found myself haunted by the bass timbre boiling out from this man’s throat as I listened to his music on Myspace. Recommended listening if low, resonating voices a la Leonard Cohen, Johnny Cash, Calvin Johnson, Tom Waits, etc. captivate you.
Kristin got a new BUST (the magazine, you perv) in the mail the other day and pointed out to me yet another feature in a major magazine touting rockabilly fashions as back in vogue. The article is titled On The Road and features a gentleman named Joseph Plunket (who apparently is a musician with a group called “The Weight“) wearing a gingham button down shirt, slim/skinny jeans, cowboy boots, and the most perfectly pomaded pompadour upon which I’ve had the pleasure of placing my greasy gaze in a long time. It’s as if the stylist for the shoot raided my closet and my medicine cabinet.
Is this classic, cool look now getting the respect it deserves in the “underground fashionista circles” (for lack of a better phrase)? Too often have I heard disparaging remarks directed at rockabillies and their music made by too-cool-too-care-how-I-look indie rock scenester types (I hate to break it to them, but making an anti-fashion statement is still making a fashion statement).
