It was long ago, a small city in Colorado, a bunch of wide-eyed kids huddled together in the local bagel shop, eagerly awaiting a show. We were hungry, because these kinds of shows didn’t happen all the time in our town, the kind with bands setting up their own tours, sleeping on your friends’ floor, selling records themselves. We usually got bands like Ratt playing for $80. When two men entered the room on opposite ends, both wearing white aprons splattered in what looked like blood, strumming ragged raw acoustic guitars, serenading one another across the crowd, I had no idea what to make of it. But I loved it.
This past weekend Phil Elvrum, performing as Mount Eerie, came to Wellington (!) and did a show at a great place called Puppies. It was a beauty. Here’s to being taken right back to the source. And being too shy to go talk to the guy.