Equipment List:

Dan Flynn plays Fibes drums, Roto-toms, and Paiste cymbals.

Jim Kuha plays a Rickenbacker Model 4001 Bass (circa 1974--Maple Glow finish) strung with Rotosound strings, Hofner Beatle Bass Model 500/01 (circa 1968), Schecter Bass,  Ovation 12 string acoustic, Martin 6 string acoustic, Moog Taurus 1 Bass pedals and electric 12 string guitar, 2 Sunn Concert amps with Sunn cab (4-15s) Roland Cube Amp, Crate Amp and Marshall JCM-Lead- cabinet

Shishonee Flynn plays a Lyon & Healy full pedal string harp (Style 17), Venzuela Folk (lever harp), Japanese Koto, Indian Tambura and Gamala Bell Tree

Garry Galloway plays Oberheim M1000, Yamaha FSR1, Yamaha CP70, Akai S5000 sampler, Korg, Roland and Prophet synthesizers, Hammond B3 organ, Steinway piano, and Mellotron.

Chris Flynn main stage guitars: 1) Fender Stratocaster (1977). This is an American made strat from the CBS era modified with a brass nut and a Gibson 490T Humbucker between neck/ middle pickup. Strat also has all 3 original stratocaster pickups and a brass Fatfinger. 2) Gibson SG Standard. All electric guitars are strung with Ernie Ball Regular Slinky 10s. Acoustic guitars: Martin D-17, Martin DX-1 (strung with Nashville Highs) and Guild D-35 (1975) acoustics. Custom built pedal board containing:  Maestro Fuzztain  MFZT-1 used with a Keeley Bypass Looper, Keeley Compressor,  Ibanez Ts9 Tube Screamer (1981), Analogman Sunface NKT, Fulltone Fulldrive 2 , Small Stone Phase Shifter (1975 Version 1), Frantone Vibutron,  Dunlap Cry Baby Wah-Wah Classic,  Barcus Berry Super Boost, Tonebone Radial JX-2 AB switch,  Ernie Ball and Sho Bud Volume Pedal.  Rack effects: Roland SDE-330 Delay, Roland SDE-1000 delay, Boss CE-300 Super Chorus, Joe Meek Studio Channel VC1 and Ibanez UE-405. I also used Fender Medium Picks, E-Bow Plus and various steel and glass slides.

Chris Flynn's stage amps are: a stereo rig with: Roland JC-120  and Marshall Mark II Master Model 100 w Lead 2203 head (circa 1980) running simultaneously in conjunction with my ToneBone Radial JX-2 (A/B switcher). Soldano and Marshall 4 x12 cabinets loaded with Celestion Vintage 30s.

Art in America uses a Roland VS-1680 digital recorder for songwriting and demo purposes. (Groove Tube 1A mic, Shure Sm57 and SM58 and various other mics and front end effect units, DBX 166, RNC and Joe Meek compressors,  MAudio DMP3 mic pres, Roland digital delays, etc.

We will post new songs regularly. Thank you for your interest in Art in America.

C.F.

‹(•¿•)›


I would call that a perfectly good, decent, sensible idea. I had it all to myself and I wasn’t going to waste a minute. It was time to put this idea into action. Focus groups must be conducted--- polls must be taken. The question must be resolved once and for all. Was I to be a half-caf, pale penumbra, who couldn’t find and didn’t know his place, or a “real cool dude, in the nation of like: “it’s like, my bad “

Up until now, I did not fit snuggly into either group, but the idea came to me that I must procure my papers, and pick a side. I was to be in the latter, a member of the: it’s like group. After all I always wanted to be hip. Time to get there. Make it so.

What was now necessary was to learn the vernacular of these people, these strangers who spreak different. I must study them closely. How they talk. How they act. How they walk. I shall wear my cap backwards. I shall show 3 inches of boxer shorts. I shall shout props. I shall never smile. Yep, now is the time for all good men, to come to the world of their betters.

And when it’s done, I will be a member of the cool posse. That ought to come in useful, in the advent of another world war.

Thank you, that will now conclude the evening’s entertainment.

C.F.

‹(•¿•)› In the 2005th year of our Lord, in the false belief, that man is basically good, Hollywood embarks upon a reality show to end all reality shows. We are good, or so they tell us.. And while the more dedicated fight the fight of the righteous, America sleeps with the Hiltons. Paris and her cute companion, sell fashion and a new canine to the gullible. Yes, I say yes.. I just must have that adorable snorting Chihuahua. In episode 1, Paris and her sidekick Chuffles, escape for fashion escapades to rural America. Sport is made of the locals, but not to worry, we will get our fill of the often used, Paris half-smile… that Da Vinci-esque come hither. And we come. As all men must. Meanwhile, as Mother Cory kneads her cornbread, the devout lay out their plans to devour McDonaldland. We are watching and waiting, but all we see is a shadow, a shadow in the corner. C.F.

‹(•¿•)› When I woke, the summer sun was already high. It streamed onto my face like so many wonderful morning kisses. The sensation of waking was itself a revelation. For months I had been neither awake, nor asleep, simply passing from the state of a greasy greater to a state of less than great. But this waking, this was a definitive act. Man, I was here today. So I’m pulling out of bed , leg by leg, inch by inch. A friggin feline in my way, meowing for morning cat gruel. So I do that. Cat is done… Shower done. Moving to the coffee machine I realize I’ll be needing this forever, and I don’t have a forever supply. One more thing for my Flynn multi-day…. Get coffee. So it’s to be a day of guitar/TV/movie/gruel/music units/vodka units—in short, just another multi-day.. . Ahhh….. Life!…. Ain’t it grand ? C.F.

‹(•¿•)› I was beginning to find, in particular, a difficulty in calling a halt, a halt to dining with this man of unlimited means, this man of unlimited spirituality. Man, he was just so damn perfect. A perpetual goodness, yep that he was. We should all be so glad to have known him, but his campaign to destroy our belief in our slovenly living, our drunkenness, was just too much. Therefore, me, myself and I have decided to ignore him. At least until our next conversation, which should commence directly. Conversation with inner ego is rarely satisfying, but one must do what one must do… Ahh what the hell…bugger off ya bastard, it's Saturday night. C.F.

‹(•¿•)› Lunch consisted of fish of a kind that we had never seen before; long, thin bodies with long beaks and eyelashes to die for. We were very hungry, but these fish, ahhh they would have tasted exquisite under any circumstances. The meal continued with beet soup and cream of mushroom ice cream. You laugh ! But dear reader , you really must try it. We had drunk the strong stinging wine of a local 7/11. A Thunderbird variety and 2004 Vintage to boot. We enjoyed it just enough to become silly. To us it tasted as if it had been the best wine ever made, but then again, taste left us both, long ago. Besides, we had no time to be critical, we were overwhelmed by the beauty of the foggy, hot, smog-filled Los Angeles Skyline. At that moment a birthday song rang out. The intense activity and lightheartedness of everyone, these wonderful waiter persons, overwhelmed us. We were asked to join in the fun, but alas—our incompetence, due to the Thunderbird wine, was a keen sense of annoyance to the birthday boy. Hence, we were escorted to the door. --- >Back to my gray palace. My “Team America” DVD awaits me. C.F.