Yesterday I spent the morning at this guy's studio:
Bluesman Hans Olson, circa 1973
We go way back. Hans played at our wedding in 1979. The above photo was in my Razz file from when we did "103 Irregular Arizonans" in 1973 and he was one of "irregulars" we featured.
Yesterday, we sat out in his back yard talking about a song we're working on while a huge crow in a palm tree kawed and kawed, nonstop. He was upset about something, perhaps our tune, perhaps something else. It did seem like an omen. When we went inside the crow came to the front of the house and sat in the bow of a tree, a mere five feet from us.
One Big Bad Scottsdale Crow
Hans' wife Gina thought he might have been hurt and she called animal rescue, but he hung close to our session and let us know when he thought something was a bad idea. Hans and I worked on lyrics for the tune. Afterwards I told Hans I found a cartoon I did of a typical band fight:
Typical Fantasy Band Fight (most musicians are too pussy to actually get physical)
Yes, that is Hans in bottom, left corner, getting strangled. Not to say, bandmates can't get pissy and display covert hostility from the stage, no less:
Jaybob Gets Sideways With His Bass Player
Since I grew up on both Country and Rock I have a bit of a split personality when it comes to my loyalties. That's why this Doper Roper vs. The Stones' Mick Jagger kind of nails my schizoid state of mind.
The Doper Roper Attacks A Crumbling Stone, 1972
This overworked piece of psychedelia ended up on the back cover of The Razz Revue, Volume I, Number. When I worked at New Times I did a couple illustrations about other forms of music, this one about jazz—King Kong and the Westward Ho, where the NT offices were at the time
King Kong Gets Into The Swing of Things, 1978
Around this same time I was in a band with Kenny Brazeal, The Southern Tornado and I did this poster for our gigs at Doolie's in Tempe:
The Southern Tornado, Kenny was an Elvis nut and played the piano. We met on the night Elvis died when we played at the Red Rooster on the South Nogales Highway outside Tucson.
Later, we actually played the Fremont Hotel in Vegas (the only time I ever played a big venue)
And then there was the Razz Band, which morphed into the Weeklies, and finally, The Zonies. We played for several decades before we ran out of gas.
The Razz Band's Jackalope Git-Picker Straddles The Inner Gorge of the Grand Canyon,
art for Thrills page in New Times touting the Recession Artist's River Trip Show at Scottsdale Center for The Arts, April 26, 1983
"We are all telling the same stories, but in our own language and means of expression."
—Annie Sundberg
