Loading tweets...
I’m thinking about music today, specifically live music. Wherever I have lived, I’ve always been drawn to the local music scene. I’ve never been able to get into the Dallas scene, at least not since living here. In college, I spent many weekends traveling to various music venues in Deep Ellum, catching great local bands.
However, Dallas has changed and even the bands I followed as a college student seem to have sold out or disbanded all together. There are days I long for the East Texas music scene. While they may lack the number of venues and bands as Dallas, when you dig deep, when you step into the underground, true treasures await.
Nestled deep within the majestic pine forests of East Texas, down a one-lane black-top county road, sits a lonely cabin. To be certain, these forests contain many cabins, but none as magical as the one in question here. I remember the first time a musician friend invited me to the cabin to hear “some cosmic American music.” At the time, punk dominated my playlists and I had very limited exposure to “cosmic American music,” but my friend promised fun, so I decided to tag-along.
We drove out a lonely Farm to Market road, past the county jail, turning onto a dark county road that created a snaking black vein through the lush pine thicket. The further we drove, the road narrowed, giving way to the brush and over-growth. Tree roots protruded out from the road and all was pitch black. Finally, we pulled onto a dirt drive and I caught my first glimpse of the Cosmic Cafe.
There was a clearing directly in front of the cabin and I noticed a make-shift pen, which on closer inspection contained two full grown Clydesdales. We walk towards the cabin, which was actually two conjoined cabins: a spherical cabin of the geometric variety and a traditional wood cabin you would find on any lake or on any deer lease. We entered through a door in the spherical shaped building and I was greeted with the smell of patchouli and cannabis.
Once inside the cabin, I noticd a large chandalier, which resembled an old wagon wheel, suspended from the ceiling. On top of the the chandalier were several mason jars, each one containing a dimly lit bulb. Hanging from the mason jars were assorted pieces of women’s lingerie, in ever shape, size and color imaginable.
To our right, was the main stage, where three men and lady, all in their 50′s and all dressed in vintage Western wear, gathered together. To our left, a wide open space, wihch led into the other cabin. Tucked against the wall were two couches straight out of the 1970′s. A wall, with twin doors, had been constructed in between the two cabins and a few feet in front of the door way sat the sound board. Pops, a tall, lanky gentleman with long gray hair and a thick gray beard sat the helm. A small group of ten or twelve people huddled around Pops. I knew a few of them from other local scenes, so I stopped to exchange pleasantries, before heading into the second cabin.
It appeared that this section served as the cantina, with two large folding tables, containing various wines and spirts, pressed against the wall on the left. Underneath the two tables, there were two coolers full of beer–Miller Lite, Shiner Bock, and Lone Star. Two breakfast table sat in the middle of the room and each table featured an intense game of dominoes. We grabbed a Shiner and were headed towards a door at the back of the cabin when we heard the first chord followed by a booming voice:
“Good evening! Welcome to the Cosmic Cafe.”
The band launched into a rendition of Gram Parson’s “In My Hour of Darkness,” and we decided to head back towards the stage. The lights were even more dim and another ten people had showed up. The stage was so dark, we couldn’t even see the drummer’s face. The lady sat at keyboard on the right side of the stage. On lead and vocals, appeared to be the oldest member of the outfit. He chained smoked throughout the entire set, holding a lit cigarette in between his ring finer and pinky on his right hand as he strummed the strings–true talent. Though not the best vocalist in the world, he did a terrific job not butchering Parson’s work. The bassist was huge, at least 6’8, and had jet black hair and a jet black beard. This gave way to a cover of Grateful Dead’s “Franklin’s Tower,” which rolled into “Desperado,” into “Ripple.” The set ran about 45 mintues. Somewhere along the way, the band launched into CCR’s “Lodi.” It was the only time the female sang lead vocals and the only truly awkward moment of the set. They ended with an electric version of “Woodstock” (CSN&Y style), thanked the audience and invited “Pablo” to the stage.
Pablo, who doesn’t resemble a Pablo, took the stage with two other younger guys. The three launched into an acoustic set that really engaged those present. By night’s end, Pops and I were the only two in the crowd not to take the state at some point.
When the music ended, my friend and I made our way the back door to a deck for a cigarette. We walked to the side railing and once again caught a glimpse of the pen with the Clydesdales. What a weird place for Clydesdales. All of a sudden, I heard a deep booming voice.
“You want one of those horses?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer the question, so I simply stared at the man. It was the bassist from the first band–the giant. He told me he had recently “won” the Clydesdales in game a poker on a “whiskey night,” and had since sworn off whiskey. It turns out he owned the Cosmic Cafe and the land it set on, also a prize in a poker game.
Over the next few months, I made a few more visits to the Cosmic Cafe and found it be one hell of a venue. Normally, I was the only non-musician present. It truly was a locale for musicians to jam with other musicians. There were no set lists to speak of, no cover charge, no merchandise, just a bunch of people who loved good music getting together and jamming. Some nights the music leaned more towards rock, some night it leaned country, some nights indie and yes, there was always “cosmic American music” to be heard.
—————-
Now playing: Grateful Dead – Eyes of the World
via FoxyTunes