The eastern eccentrics arrive cautiously for

their first San Diego gig. Dressed in

thrift store faded clothes,

they tune bass, cello, and keyless electric guitar.

Bill Frisell’s shy smile gives his bald pate drummer the go ahead.

Soon they rumble with flashing

treasures for the curious.

 

A blues tune grows into not unlike Willie Dixon’s “You Shook Me”.

The lanky cello man has some strong licks

dressed most out of place for fashion conscious

La Jolla- yellow T-shirt with a bumblebee blowing saxophone,

and blue checkered pants with sneakers.

 

Frisell’s black T-shirt and navy chinos

upgrade the band’s wardrobe.

But the lack of southern California apparel is a plus

and these guys know it.

 

Om-paa-pa calliope sounds pump from the blues.

Joey on the traps soars, private

jokes pass between he and Frisell.

Drum slaps follow quick on the heels of lead riffs.

 

The next tune begins with a cold wind on guitar.

Bare trees rattle on a fogged window.

back outside an actual reflection of the bass player’s face and drummer’s smile

looks like a television screen floating over

the red-light intersection, here at eleven stories up.

 

With a jump, our ears snap from a cacophony of

bird song in agonizing flight; as if eluding a hungry beast.

Frisell is an electric monster beckoning the apocalypse

(And this from a man who on an NPR interview claims

he’s too shy to sing in the shower).

 

Again, the tune falls quickly into a

new thought, Brazilian swing, and ending with a few bars of

Ventures for the surfers present.

 

A country theme follows with sage odor over Norwegian icy fjords.

Digging deep into their creative pockets these

New Yorkers become cowboys leading a tattered wagon.

A dry dust swirls under the elaborate chandelier here in Elario’s,

sticking to the velvet curtains.

 

Outside a real gust blows with the autumn Santa Ana wind.

After the show we drive east through the remains.

Patio umbrellas litter the climb up

Torrey Pines Road.  And on the freeway, the severed body of a coyote,

shiny crimson under a brief flash of headlights.

Frisell and his crew had stretched the limits.