In prior years, I've often framed this month's synopsis in the whole "back-to-school" schtick appropriate for this time of year. However, with the advance of Athens Popfest and my first trip to Knoxville looming on my ledger this August, the old frame seemed inadequate. Indeed, any frame won't capture this exact frame of mind, which is - where? Maybe stuck somewhere in the middle of Dennis Callaci's sprawling tone poem, trying to discern the environs; or maybe on the sidelines of the dance floor, watching Moon King and Annie Hart work their magic. Or maybe I'm down in the trenches with Priests and Dasher, hiding from hostile forces. No, no, not that. Well, am I floating in the clouds with Frankie Rose or (Sandy) Alex G? Or, no, higher - could I be up in the stars with Le Fruit Vert and Cathode Ray Eyes? No, definitely not. This real state I'm in, I'd place it between the blunt force of Deafcult and the humble ramblings of CHUCK.
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