VAX Dispatch, No. Three-Hundred thirty vax
if you delve into the twisted underbranches of the brooklyn historical society archive you can confront yourself with cisco bradley’s VAXterview. shoveling the dust off a couple other old blogs, you will sniff the persistent remnant vapors of evidence of past brilliance and you should see the look on our face.
and/but then there was berlin and 12 hour doppelkeks-fueled days with precious insanity licking at our blistering heels. you say i don’t know where i am and you are right and you are BIZ we’ll always have paris and you are covered in urine because you fell down the stairs and had a seizure again and eve risser takes you to l’hôpital and when you get back from the hospital you play a show in another basement and then get in a car and we all learn DOGON A.D. on the way from paris to dresden and archive one thousand jazz musician name puns.
everyone has construction, so you can imagine how VONE feels in this painful situation and he cuts his heart out with a blinding chainsaw solo. TRIX plays his slick licks and gets his shtick mixed in a xy conglomerate of saxophonapheliac satisfaction. if we were eating icecream, if we were eating copious amounts of ice cream on the corner before the gunshots, it was still after it was possible for V to read his poetry and for that to be simultaneous, gunfire, icecream, easterbunny. anyway our friends didn’t take it seriously. hi PAUL.