The second installment of the Gypsy Camp series was an absolute success, having almost tripled the attendance of the first one. This time, we had a bit of a new touch, with art hanging from the trees by ribbons as some sort of woodsy, ersatz art gallery. I (Flip Cassidy) had several framed photographs amidst the branches, and Paul Koudounaris (who may or may not be some kind of medical doctor) graced us with photographs from his recent trip to Bolivia, documenting the Fiesta de las Natitas festival.



The day saw some great performances, the first of which was by Mike Wetzel of DEMONORA, who (by the way) has just completed the first issue of LEVELS BELOW, a new grassroots publication of visuals, vibrations and ideas.





Next up was Josh Boyd of RADIO HOTBODIES. Josh played his own set amidst recording interviews and performances from the day, and compiling them down into a special edition Radio Hotbodies podcast, which you can hear here.



Everyone was then summarily rocked by The Dread Crew of Oddwood, who came all the way up from San Diego to revel amongst the trees with us.



We then heard from GRIT, who on this day was represented by a fraction of the total group, with Squeezebox Sam on accordion and Mike Dill on resonator guitar.





It was at that time Weasels exist. rounded out the day, calling out The Dread Crew of Oddwood and Captain Diggity from The Pirates Charles to come up and finish the day as about a dozen men belted out "Sand in the Rum".





It's incredibly exciting what we ALL have going on here. To all the artists willing to hike out into El Escorpion, and create this magical microcosm together, to Sam Koskela and Stephanie Antonio for taking photos and video all day, to all who come to enjoy, and to all who help carry gear out and set up early in the morning, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU.

The next Gypsy Camp will take place on January 16, 2010.

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Last weekend on Oct 3, a fantastic gathering occurred within a cafe-sized room canopied by trees. The Gypsy Camp is a long-visited place within El Escorpion Park in West Hills - long overdue to be utilized as a unique venue for live music.

It was the beginning of a new series of acoustic shows that bring bands out of bars and clubs, friends and musical enthusiasts out of the house on a saturday afternoon, and a unique and magical experience to everyone involved.
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First to perform was Benjamin Weintraub (Slips Into Space), accompanied by Jesse Austin hitting lots of stuff.





Mike and Shawna Wetzel (Demonora)





Then Weasels exist. existed.





Finally, to close out the day as the sun sank down, The Downtown Train played a set of mellow blues to finish off the day.



If this looked like a good time to you, please tell people about it, and join us for Gypsy Camp The Second on Saturday, Nov. 14. Prepare yourself with a cooler and blanket and an afternoon to enjoy some great music.

Thanks to Stephanie Antonio, Sam Koskela and John Martin for photographing the occasion.

LOW DOWN WOMAN

standin' in the doorway, thinkin bout a white car
that low down woman gonna take my buick away
standin' in the doorway, thinkin' bout a way out
that low down woman don't leave me no escape
standin' in the doorway, thinkin' bout a mirror
that low down woman make me hate the man i see
standin' in the doorway, thinkin' bout a court case
that low down woman gonna take me to the judge
low down, low down woman, low down goddamn woman!

standin' in the doorway, thinkin' bout a viceroy
that low down woman smoke me up and stamp me out
standin' in the doorway, thinkin' bout whiskey
i could drown myself but she'd be waitin' down with davey jones
standin' in the doorway, thinkin' bout chicago
that low down woman make me jump right on a plane
standin' in the doorway, thinkin' bout my money
that low down woman gonna take it all away
low down, low down woman, low down goddamn woman!

standin' in the doorway, thinkin' bout a heartache
that low down woman ain't good fer nothin' else
standin' in the doorway, thinkin' bout a redhead
that low down woman really givin' me the blues
low down, low down woman, low down goddamn woman!

RIDICULOUS CIRCUMSTANCES

caught between the eagle's roost and coyotes' pass
400 miles from portland, lord i hope this horse will last
her back is broke, her eyes are sore and steam pours out of her ears
i've had to bury a horse before though not for several years

for life
is a set
of ridiculous circumstances
life
is a set
of unspeakable past romances
life is a room
full of thieves and whores, i tells ya
life
is a game
that you were born to lose.

a band of gypsies shouting from the roof up to the sky
it seems our latest watermark has rose a bit too high
the northern lands are beck'ning but our horse no longer cares
so pray for every weary leg and watch out...
for bears.

methink we'll have to shoot her if she falls another time
a measly sixty dollars, mr. wilson's soul is mine
the sound of all yer freedom being drowned out by the rain
ya best go chase them visions
lest they ne'er
come 'round
again.

for life
is a set
of ridiculous circumstances
life
is a set
of unspeakable past romances
life is a room
full of thieves and whores, i tells ya
life
is a game
that you were born to lose.

BURY ME IN WHISKEY

won't you bury me in whiskey, let me die, let me die
the label on the bottle say, "here at last i lie"
won't you bury me in whiskey, let me die

well they found a cure for heaven, so goodbye, goodbye
they told me it was perfect...oh, but that was just a lie
so before i go to heaven, goodbye

when i go
bury me in whiskey
singin' glory, hallelujah now i'm gone

if ya think ya see the future, take it now, take it now
ya can't go back to yesterday, no no, yer not allowed
if ya think ya see the future, take it now

if the devil's in yer heart, let 'im go, let 'im go
'cause if ya let 'im in, you'll be the last one to know
if the devil's in yer heart, let 'im go

you know there ain't no woman hold a candle up to you
so i'll have to use a torch instead
(i'm gonna see this through)
come on, honey.
let me burn for you

when i go
bury me in whiskey
when i go
oh jesus, won't you bury me in whiskey?
singin' glory, hallelujah -
now i'm gone.

WHEN I GET HOME

when i get home, i'm gonna tear up my bedsheets
i'm gonna smash all the lights
i'm gonna burn it to the ashen ground
and light a cigarette
off a house on fire
when i get home, i'm gonna fill up my gas tank
i'm gonna shine up my shoes
i'm gonna press my sunday best
and babe
i'm never, ever comin' home to you
when i get home i'm gonna load my .45
find me the devil
and then
let them bullets fly.

when i get old, i'm gonna let all my hair grow
my beard is gonna trap the sun
my skin is gonna read like parchment
that chronicles them wicked deeds i done
when i get old, i'm gonna sing like a bullet
walk like a gun
they'll call me an outlaw, but i'm just
a tempus fugitive
'cause time flies livin' on the run
when i get old, i'm gonna sit on my doorstep
i'm gonna have a word with God
i'll ask the lord almighty
"what's so bad about hell, anyway?
the devil couldn't handle where i'm from."
when i get old, it won't be long 'fore i die
and death is just a stranger
with the future in his eyes

when i'm dead, i think i'll go learn italian
they will remember my name
when i'm dead i'll just pretend i moved to texas
and i'll never see that woman's face again
when i'm dead, i'm gonna push my own daisies
i'm gonna poison the ground
when i'm dead, i hear i'm gonna live forever
when the rapture come
you know i'll be around.
when i'm dead, i swear the world won't believe me
sendin' out my stories from the dark of the grave
when i'm dead, i'll do the things you do best better
all in order:
Relent, Profess, Behave.
while i'm alive
i'm gonna leave a crater.
and when i'm dead, well -
they can write about it later.

when i'm dead, i'm gonna hang up my top hat
while i'm alive i'm gonna dance in the rain
and i'll never need no shelter, lord 'cause
when it's raining bullets,
only
the bulletproof survive.
when i'm dead, i'll say i've earned eternal slumber
maybe six feet underground -
i'll finally
get some sleep.

CINNAMON SUGAR

i said, hey hey cinnamon sugar
won'tcha save a couple scoops fer me?
'cause i won't be alone, no not if yer home
so leave the light above yer back door on fer me

well if you've ever been lonely when ya pulled into town
and ya knew it wouldn't last that long
well than ya know a little girl named
cinnamon sugar
give a wanderin' man a bed to belong

yer wife won't do it
but ol' cinnamon can
she's like an angel and a devil in one
you'll swear that yer in heaven
when she do
what she do
come on and candy coat this bitter man

well ya might come by in the heat of the night,
lookin' for a little action and gin
but her back door's locked so ya know she's on the clock
and so ya go and see brandy down the way

i said, hey hey brandywine honey
i wonder what yer doin' tonight
'cause cindy ain't at home and her back door's closed
so...
have ya got an hour to treat me allright?

GET OFF

i don't know what you've been thinkin'
i don't think that you've been thinkin'
i don't think you even think at all
i don't like what i been thinkin'
don't like how much i been drinkin'
wish that you'd just get up off my mind

i don't think i understand
the vague appeal of another man
and i don't think you understand yourself
of all the things i understand
this thing i call "the best i can"
is now available for someone else

heeey girl...
or should i say
gigantic, horrific, big fuckin' waste of time?
well i wish you'd git the fuck up off my mind.

SAND IN THE RUM

there's sand in the rum, me boys!
sand in the rum!
he who live by cutlass die by men who live by guns
there's sand in the rum, me boys!
sand in the rum!
we raise a glass to heav'n
but the other kingdom come

we drink away our miseries and raise a toast to life
we think away our sanity
and pray that we'll survive
if we're to die for pleasure, then we'll burn in hell 'til dawn
with tankards overflowing
'cause there's sand in the rum
there's brothers killing brothers in the bull run of yer mind
no family ties in glassy eyes, for love AND war are blind
and spill a pint of whiskey
for the gettysburg within
they say that blood is thicker, but there's sand in the rum

beware the painted ladies on the streets of new orleans
yer nightmares masquerade around
as women of yer dreams
she'll tempt you with her collarbone
and curse ya with a smile
there's sand in the rum
and there's fire down below
you've walked for seven miles
one for every deadly sin
and seven thousand steps remind ya what the mess yer in
we're never running backwards
if we face the other way
there's truth in every footprint, and there's sand in the rum

go walk along the beach, remind yourself that you are sane
with naught upon yer feet for there's enough upon yer brain
the moon is calm and tranquil
but it's nothing come the dawn
there's poison
in the needles
in the sand
in the rum.
yer image in the mirror just arrived a second late
ya stare through hollow eyes into the man it duplicates
ya think it's yer reflection
but he's here to prove ya wrong -
yer lookin' at the man what put the sand in yer rum.

ya never saw it coming, but there's sand in the rum
ya never did prepare yerself for sand in the rum
the peasants slave away for nothing here in kingdom come
the hourglass is empty
and there's sand in the rum

you've walked for 18 miles, death is waitin' at yer back
the journey claims the body
but
the soul is fighting back
there ain't no room for amateurs
the sack is comin' down
the mad
have gone professional
and there's sand in the rum

HEY PAUL (BURN THE MAN DOWN)

the tale of a madman or high-powered mutant
a man with big balls, fireworks and flare guns
a man with a mission
on destiny's femur
remembered by fire and name

and it's hey paul, burn the man down
the moon, she said it's allright

ya lit up the night by the dark of the moon
and the children who cried
had been waiting since june
but there are some of us who don't think it too soon
for reminders of why we're all here

was it liquor?
or acid?
or speed?
or cocaine?
or just pyrotechnical wimsy?
or was it yer own way to say
"FUCK THE MAN!"
with a hot one right up the chimney

well yer allright by me
yer a dandy fine fellow
won't hold it against ya for harshing our mellow
'cause turnabout's fair on both sides of the counter
until
it happens to you

hey paul, burn the man down
the moon she said it's allright
and if the moon says it's allright
then i guess i can say
it's allright.

ACROSS THE MOTORCADE

looking down on the motorcade
i saw you across the motorcade
there's an honest man left in town
with his feet in the slums
i saw you across the motorcade
fell in love with you across the motorcade
there's an honest town left a man
with his feet in the slums

and i'm tired of buildings
tired of magazines
tired of airplanes
tired of screaming at you
tired of airplanes
tired of magazines
tired of buildings
and tired of screaming at you
across the motorcade
and i'm tired of billboards
tired of outlaws
tired of last calls
tired of reaching for you
and i'm tired of needing
tired of wanting
tired of living
tired of reaching for you
and i'm tired of dying
and tired of living
and tired of everything
tired of reaching for you

SEPULVEDA BLUES

wanna buy a soda, can't seem to find a quarter
neil young's in a coma back in north dakota
the weasel in the corner
looks like alan alda
you wanna get promoted but can't seem to meet the quota
find a new position
and lose
your
mind.

woke up in the mornin, couldn't find my shoulder
went into the bathroom, it was the toothbrush holder
i can't find a cornfield
might not be in kansas
drank too much corona, woke up mixin' mortar
find a new profession
and lose
your mind.

no one knows what side yer on
for all they know ya might grow wings at dawn
and fly away
libertines, dead poets and
the intellectual courtesan
remember wings
but don't remember names.

fill the fridge with porter
invite the neighbors over
in greece, i was a roman
these bowling shoes are stolen
i looked just like napoleon before my face got stolen
find the old controller
the new one's out of order
find the old controller
and lose
your
mind.

when history all disappears
and you get lost
you'll find me here
in this filthy jacket made from time
its fabric is all torn and frayed
pockets filled with lost crusades
and just enough
to get me out of town.

DAVE AND JOHN

dave lives on john
john lives on dave
john mows his lawn
dave beats his slave
john has a well-tended lawn
dave, a well-beaten slave
what a ludicrous way for people to behave
(up 'round weymouth way!)
dave lives on john
but wants to move to dave
john lives on dave
but wants to move to john
dave wants to live on dave
and john live on john
both of them lament the street that they live on
(up 'round weymouth way!)
lois is a man
who wants to be a woman named craig
craig is a girl
who's madly in love with dave
trouble is that dave is gay
and craig is not a man
she's altering her gender
the very best she can
(up 'round weymouth way!)
steve is a neighbor
who lives by dave and john
no one ever knows
what kind of trip he's on
leaving every weekend
driving far away
john, dave, lois and craig carry on
while steve goes to Hey
(up 'round weymouth way!)
dave moved from john
and now he lives on dave
john moved from dave
to go reside on john
dave's old slave is paid well now
and gophers ate john's lawn
and steve returns around the bend
with those mirrored glasses on
(up 'round weymouth way!)

THE WEASEL

the weasel he was walking down a lonesome mountain road
he sat down by a tree so he could rest his heavy load
the weasel sat and wondered how he'd make it out alive
and the weasel's feet were tired
'cause the weasel couldn't drive

who said that the weasel was mine?
you said that the weasel was mine!
i don't have eyes in the back of my weasel
but the back of my weasel has eyes.

the weasel went a-wanderin' through the dark and deadly woods
where lesser men have perished but the weasel never would
for the weasel knew his instincts and the secrets of the land
he simply must prevail
to make the others understand

when the weasel feels his time will come
he will stand up with the rest
atop a pinecone in the forestries
they will show themselves again
from the unknown worlds of catastrophe
of the likes you've never met
and your atom's ball of roosky
hasn't dropped down to theirs yet

the weasel walks among you
you have seen him in the streets
but you probably haven't noticed
'cause the weasel is discreet
when you never cease to wander, you will always feel at home
and it's easier to spot him when the weasel walks alone

you needn't fear the weasel, for he's here to save our lives
he'll turn you into weasels but will not dehumanize
the weasel who has come has got your best interests in mind
he simply wants to unify the world of weaselkind