Last weekend the Frankencrew decided to up and take off on a good ol’ fashioned roadtrip to one of my favorite weekend destinations Athens, GA for Gypsy Farm’s RMK Fest 2013!  And to mark the event we decided to do a shush-shush release of our first lathe-cut flexi disc “Butcher” by Uncle Skunkle & The Scarecrow Family Band.

Pick up a flexi record!

We took off into the wild breeze on a beautiful saturday afternoon for some R&R in the USA.  We had some good conversations with the black top, but in no time we arrived surrounded on all sides by love and hospitality. We were thereby forced to abandon our friend the road and take refuge with others, namely Matt Garrison (The HUMMS, Shoal Creek Stanglers) and his beautiful wife Liz.  Having lain down our baggage we posted up for some quality socialization with the Gypsy King himself, Zeke Sayer.  Having done our deeds and sown our seeds we embarked, making stops to acquire the necessary provisions and finally made our way down to the train tracks  where was found a house with not one, but two stages.

Throughout the night we saw many faces, some well lit and others less than so, but faces nontheless.  Exhibit A: Andy chillin’ with our new friend Dirty Jesse.  The tumblers tumbled and the swimmers swam.  The rapture came and ritvals were performed.  All played impeccably in their individual ways.  There were kegs abound.  The night flew by as we soaked up the beautiful wweather and the beautiful faces.  The hipsters cooed, the vomit spewed, and before we knew it the bell tolled 3 in the am.  Those of us that remained on the functioning spectrum sought sensory satisfaction in the saturated spuds of The Grill.

 The Grill!

These hand krinkle cut fries came equipped with the most deviously delicious dipping dressing made with feta cheese. Incredible.  The folks down at The Grill know how to serve it up right.  The Sunshine burgers were impressive as well.  Vegan friendly. 10/10.  It was then that we returned to our home away from home for a Z-feast of the highest order.  The following noontime the sun found our eyes and conciousness was instilled in us by the sun’s power.  We sought sustenence of the vegan variety at Broad Street Coffee, where our taste buds were pampered with vegan majesty.  Coffee was interveneously injected into our bloodstream and the day was begun.

Valient efforts were made to raid the city for it’s finest junk.  Wuxtry Records was the recepient of some free samples from the label and subsequently records were purchased.  Then vintage boutiques and oddities stores were combed over for booty rendering several cassettes, a portable record player, and this comic book:

(wtf?)  Eventually the belly rumbled once more, spurring a race to the homestead to prepare spaghetti for all!  As the party approached we prepared appropriately and departed for the legendary swamp of secrets, where lives a squirrel with great wisdom.  We arrived to hear Mr. Clit & The Pink Cigarettes rocking away with the swingin’ swampers on the inside.  We found a couple of willing bodies and exploited them for their lifeless qualities.  Thus a booth was established.  Coombsbot got their rock on for a hot minute, followed by ATL girl punkers Pussy Pussy.  Then the night really started to heat up.  I don’t know what them Get High Boys were gettin’ high on but it sounded somethin’ similar to sniffin’ glue.  The kids were boppin’ and hoppin’ along with the poppy punk party vibes.  Then The Rodney Kings took the stage and whipped the people into an all out frenzy.  There was pizza in the air, beer here and there, and party everywhere.  It was quite outta sight and absolutely tight not a damn bit trite, they were doin’ it right!  From there the party kept on churnin’ as the crowd migrated deeper into the swamp to the infamously secretive squirrel.  There we re-established our final base of operations as documented here:

We were lucky enough to be graced by the presence of NYC’s own Darkminster on this evening as they performed bizarre jazz rituals for our enjoyment.   This haunting presence was then perfectly complemented by the spookish thump provided by Athen’s own trippy blues kickers The Humms.  They brought the crowd back to a raging dance party before surrendering the night to it’s last performers, Bubbly Mommy Gun (Part Tres), who sent us out on a sweet cloud of weird-pop serenity.  As we confronted the end of the festival we decided that we still felt a dissatisfaction deep within ourselves.  A feeling that can only be described as…the drunk munchies.

We retired to the house of waffles for a late night refuel, then back to the Willow for holistic medicine and sleepy time whispers.  This festival was a culmination of  creativity, brotherhood, and pizza that left us begging for more.

Needless to say we will return.