Live Set from WFHB's Local Live May 17

Here's the link for the Blind Uncle Harry live set from WFHB's Local Live May 17. Thanks to Frankie Ferrell and all the crew at WFHB for having us back. We had a blast!

        Click on da pic to hear the podcast:

Local Live – Blind Uncle Harry

Blind Uncle Harry are specialists in shredding, sing-alongs and “hillbilly hippy haiku folk rock.” The band sometimes varies in style and size. We were fortunate enough to have Chris Doran and Sadie Dainko stop by the station and offer a musical antidote to these politically poisonous times. In their own words, “just because Donald Trump is president doesn’t mean you’ve gotta be a tool.”

1.) Song for the Revolution
2.) Give Me Your Heart
3.) Indiana
4.) Long, Lonesome Tune
5.) Such is Life Kurt Vonnegut
6.) Cry Me A Rainbow

Originally aired: 5/17/17
Engineers: Dan Withered, Kate Welch

Live at the Dream, Bloomington April 28

Click on da pic for video

We had a good time SHREEEEDDDDDDDDDING at the Dream April 28. Click on da pic to check us out wailing on You Show Me Your and I'll Show You Mine. Special thanks to Jakob Bergman for filming and editing this, and to the Dream for hosting and to Ghastly, Indiana Eric AlexanderThe Lean and The Plenty for their great sets. From left: Sadie Dainko, Chris D (Johnny Haywire), Nicholas Harley (hidden), Ned JoynerPeter Doyle, and Ryan Heimlich (just off camera). 

 

Dream Show Friday

Happy 4-20!

Happy 4-20 everybody!

click on da pic to watch the video:

Shred Shed Show Saturday

Shred Shed Show this Saturday March 18

It's All Fucked

 

Hope y'all enjoy our latest ditty. And just remember- just because Donald Trump is president doesn't mean you've gotta be a tool:

Doesn't seem to be no rhyme nor rule

So many people are such assholes

So many others are utter fools

Doesn't mean you've gotta be a tool

We Came. We Saw. We Shredded: Dream House Show, Feb 2

Thanks everybody who came out last night for ShredFest at the Dream. Thanks to the Dream (formerly known as The Cram) for hosting, and to the other great bands for playing: Brownies in Cinema, High Fiber, and our touring buddies Canadian Waves from Columbus Ohio. Check out some pics from our set- thanks Leah!

 

 

A good ol' Buckeye sing along to "Indiana"

CLICK ON DA PIC to watch us having a good ol' time singing along to "Indiana" at House With No Name in Columbus (OH) last night.

            Of all the 50 states/ We're the one that always rates

                Dumbest fattest and least likely to fornicate

            Indiana! Indiana! Hoo-Hoo-Hoo-Hoo-siers!

Thanks to Wham Bam Kendra Ann and her magic socks for singing with us, ditto to Leah Divito, and of course to the much missed former Blind Uncle Harry regular Joseph Dreamboat Klatt. And to Sandeep and House with No Name for hosting us. 

After our acoustic set we all descended down into the basement to watch Joseph's band Victory Gardens shred it up. 

 

 

Christmas Day in Australia- A Christmas Classic

It just wouldn't be Christmas without 'Christmas Day in Australia'. Bing Crosby is no doubt rolling over in his grave, pissed off that he didn't live long enough to record this instead of that White Christmas crap. It's the first single off Blind Uncle Harry's critically acclaimed debut album Visualize Industrial Collapse

     From the liner notesAlready being heralded as a surefire future Christmas Classic, the didjeridoo and dobro opening chords will soon make you forget all about Rudolph and Frosty the Snowman. Shelby Jo the Blonde Diva's back up vocal melds perfectly with Chris D's (aka Blind Uncle Harry) lead vocal, and you can practically smell the beach while relating to the heartbreak deep in your gut. And then at the end, Alex Burgan's sultry duet for the last few lines is one of my favorite moments on the album. Hubba hubba- you really want to be sweating on the beach with her.

CHRISTMAS DAY IN AUSTRALIA 
by Blind Uncle Harry 

The sun is sinking below the waves 
As the fireworks explode over the headland 
The Southern Cross, it is low in the sky 
As the surf pounds down on the sand 

It's Christmas Day in Australia 
And I'm sweating here on the beach 
Everything seems so very achievable 
Yet so far and so out of reach 

She left me on the Queen's birthday 
It's been over three months hence 
That's when I started drinking 
And I haven't been sober since 

The kids are still playing cricket on the pitch 
As the surfers line up for that last break 
There's couples kissing on the beach 
And my heart is breaking in a brand new way 

And the rich fucks look down from their balconies 
From their ugly high rises where the poor once lived 
You'd think they'd have something to contribute 
But they've got nothing to give 
And everyone is having a good time pretending 
That everything is gonna be all right 

Cuz it's Christmas Day in Australia 
And I'm sweating here on the beach 
Everything seems so very achievable 
Yet so far and so out of reach

Originally released 24 November 2014 

Credits: Blind Uncle Harry: acoustic guitar and lead vocals; Shelby Jo the Blonde Diva Everett: vocals; Alexandria of Egypt Burgan: vocals; Austin Boom Boom Davis: djembe; Nick Wildcard Harley: didjeridoo, 2nd guitar, dobro, and bass.

Doin' the Delmar to My Baby Likes to Smoke a Bong

Me Pete and Nick had a fine ol' time at the one the only Betty's Bar and Grill in Nashville Tennessee Dec 17. Here's a little clip of our new Cajun down home Trump lovin' buddy Delmar cuttin' up the rug to My Baby Likes to Smoke a Bong

Betty's Show Nashville Dec 17

Switchyard Show Dec 4

Hey, thanks everyone who came out to the switchyard Dec 4! We had a great show especially since Kendra Ann was in town and got to sing with me and Nick. Thanks to the Switchyard for having us and also thanks to Ron Dye and Anthony Mullis and the incredible Katie Cruel for rounding a great singer songwriter set. 

Go Fuck Yourself Mike Pence

 

 Click on the pic to watch the vid!

Mike Pence. The only good thing about Trump picking Mike Pence as his running mate is the rest of the country can now see what a slimy piece of shit he is. Pence's last foray into the national spotlight was for his outspoken support for the Indiana Religious Freedom Bill which legalized businesses to refuse service to gays lesbians and trans people based on 'religious beliefs'. We said it then, and we say it now: 

GO FUCK YOURSELF MIKE PENCE 

The loud proud Republic of Bloomington is NOT like the rest of Indiana. We are not the wretched assholes who voted for Pence or the bigoted legislators who support him and his 1950's fucked up Christian agenda.

In dishonor of Mike Pence, we've re-named our upcoming single "Go Fuck Yourself Mike Pence". Better known as "Hillbilly Hippie Haiku Heaven", it's our hymn to the tolerance and openness of Bloomington. 

 

I am a gay lesbian bisexual transgender

pot smokin' acid trippin' tree huggin' illegal immigrant

lazy black welfare mother job avoiding anarchist

ANTI-CAPITALIST!!! lazy hippie hillbilly

I'm an Atheist Muslim Hindu Buddhist Wicca

Agnostic Pagan true believer, uh huh...

Here in Hillbilly Hippie Haiku Heaven

Don't you know that I fit in oh so well

Home!

After 6,000 miles, nearly 20 shows, a lot of delicious beer, an even larger amount of delicious and legally available weed, multiple rides on the Giant Dipper, communing with a water snake at Coffee Creek, and playing our last show at a packed out Apple Jack's bar in La Honda California (often referred to the diviest country bar in America) we have now made it back home. My heart's in California but it's so good to be back in Bloomington. 

The tour was a success. We broke even thanks to venue payments, cd sales, and tips that included cash, beer, shots, and bags of weed. 

We didn't see any rain for the month we were on the road out west. Driving back with Ned to Bloomington from Canyon de Chelly, the rain started as soon as we hit the Jesus freak flatlands of Kansas and never stopped; it rained all the way to Bloomington. Torrential storms interspersed with hard showers, hours in the middle of the night where you can't see jackshit and have to slow down to 30 and hope you don't get rearended by a semi that can't slow down in time. The huge brightly lit freeway billboards in Kansas telling us to repent and the hour is nigh and hell awaits were like some sort of primordial warning signs for being stupid enough to have left California. 

Ok time to rest up and get ready to launch the Gospel According to Blind Uncle Harry! 

 

It sucks leaving Cali :( :( :( and Canyon de Chelly :( :( :(

Sad sad sad to have the hit the road back home. California is like another country, a much better laid back more tolerant one than the Crapfest we were about to have to endure. Ned Can I Play Joyner drove back with me; Nick stayed in Cali to visit family. Once we drove over the Sierra Nevadas and hit the south end of Lake Tahoe in Nevada it was crapfest on steroids- casinos, shopping malls, huge glaring neon signs, attractions for fat middle class idiot Americans and their equally fat stupid kids, and traffic traffic traffic and more traffic.

We headed south, on our way to mystical Canyon de Chelly in northeastern Arizona. Nevada has a stark emptiness punctuated by its horrible horrible towns where you can gamble, legally hire a prostitute, and get married all in one convenient location. And of course eat at a chain restaurant and sleep in a chain hotel. In contrast to  California, it's like Nevada has outlawed any and all local businesses. Depressing and boozhie as fuck. 

Canyon de Chelly was in stark contrast. A national monument in the heart of the Navajo Nation Reservation, crapfest was nowhere to be seen. There was no entry fee, the only Rangers we saw were at the visitor center, and the majority of people exploring the canyon were Navajo. Navajo have been farming and raising sheep in the canyon for as long as they've been in the area, and much of the canyon is closed off to tourists because there are active farms and sacred sites throughout the canyon floor. Mystical is the word that comes to mind.  

 

 

 

Santa Cruz Artbar Show


Alex having a good time riding the Giant Dipper

Had a fantastic show at the wonderful Artbar in Santa Cruz at the wonderful Artbar on Aug 6. Nick and I were joined by Blind Uncle Harry’ers Alex(andria of Egypt) Burgan and Ned (Can I Play) Joyner. With Ned on bass and Alex and him both singing we ramped up the energy physically emotionally kinetically and every which way. Me and Nick had had a good response to the new songs, but with the four of us singing the choruses to My Baby Likes to Smoke a Bong (While I Go Down on Her Putong), It’s All Fucked, Pretty Girl, and Ain’t No Grave it was hella hoppin’. Nick on dobro, Ned holding it down on bass, and Alex singing lead or harmony with me on guitar- damn I wish the tour never had to end. And as always it was a thrill to hear Alex sing 4 Days Drive to Chiapas, and duet with me on Christmas Day in Australia, Song for the Revolution (aka Song for 2116), and belt out Hillbilly Hippie Haiku Heaven. And her high lonesome harmony on Cry Me a Rainbow always gives me chills. 

We’d picked Ned up near Placerville where he’d been spending the summer doing some interesting horticultural work. Alex lives in Santa Cruz and we got to stay and hang with her for a memorable time in the best US city ever- ok hella expensive and traffic is a daddy fucker but holy fuck the Giant Dipper is right on the beach! Coming into the city at night and seeing it lit up against the backdrop of the ocean is truly magical. And the best part is you can park on the street outside the Boardwalk and ten minutes later be riding the Giant Dipper! If I lived in santa cruz I’d ride the Giant Dipper before work, on my lunch hour, and every night after work. If aliens invaded the USA and demanded to be shown one worthwhile thing that americans have accomplished, I would take them for a ride on the Giant Dipper.

Ned Can I Play Joyner, Blind Uncle Harry, Nick Wildcard Harley on the Santa Cruz Boardwalk

All over downtown Santa Cruz there are buskers and artists and cool local stores and the vast soul eroding crapfest that is the rest of America seemed like a distant dream. The four of us spent a day at a beach less than a 30 minute drive away, completely deserted and we saw dolphins and sea otters and the sun set and glowed while the California stars slowly appeared overhead. Less than 30 minutes east and there is the mountains and redwoods and small little charming towns that have somehow managed to ban the corporate chain death in life that plagues nearly every other community in the United States of Asskissers. We so did not want to leave...:( 

Getting ready for the Artbar Show, Santa Cruz

Our Show at Apple Jack's, the Diviest Country Bar in America


Apple Jack’s. As in Apple Jack’s, the sole bar in La Honda California less than an hour north and slightly east of Santa Cruz up in the redwood hills. Being the sole bar it’s also the closest bar to Neil Young’s ranch… I’d asked neil to open for us and or jam with us on a few songs but I never heard back. Sigh… Regularly described as the diviest country bar in america, Apple Jack’s lived up to its name. We got there early and commenced drinking some fine Lagunitas and getting ready for the show. Locals were all super friendly and hung out with us amongst the redwoods on the big back deck. Got a little weird when this guy came up and looked up at me big eyed and exclaimed ‘you were in my dream last night!’ and then he looked at alex and exclaimed that she was in his dream too. We took it as a good if very odd omen for the show. 

We had a great show. Apple Jack’s didn’t have a sound system, and our little acoustic PA was blown out, so we played without being amped. that was ok until about 11 when suddenly the place was packed, and so we really had to belt out the songs which was fine cuz it was definitely a belt ‘em out kinda night.

Local on the back deck

Man, we had a hella good time. We played for over 2 and a half hours, and then realized that none of us were in any condition to drive back to Santa Cruz so we ended up sleeping in the van except for nick who set up his hammock. We had to be back in santa cruz early cuz alex who lives there had an important meeting which was interesting cuz we didn’t crash until after 3:30 or 4. We miraculously woke up and got moving on time but then the battery was dead, which was initially pretty stressful but we flagged some folks down in no time who gave us a jump. Then we drove around trying to find the house of the very very kind person who had lent us some blankets, but we couldn’t remember his address. or his name. or even if they all were his blankets. So we left them on the front veranda of Apple Jack’s with a note.

Cool California (It's the name of the town)

Private Event Show, near Cool California

Me and Nick got to spend some quality time with Ned (Edward Can I Play Joyner) in the hinterlands of Cool California near Placerville, where Ned was working. We got to stay at this amazing house up on a ridge, with views out to Sacramento and all the way to the Bay Area and the Pacific Ocean. It was spectacular- you could see the fucking curve of the earth! Looking the other way east was a seemingly endless expanse of wilderness with the Sierra Nevadas stretching into Nevada and Lake Tahoe. We didn’t see any while we were there but the property had been visited recently by bears cougars and a number of resident rattlesnakes. The temperature consistently hit 100 plus degrees, but it was a dry delicious heat that felt less intense than an 80 plus degree day in high humidity Bloomington. But still hella hot which made the swimming hole at Traverse Creek Falls especially welcoming except of course for the hike in and back out ☺ Three of us even managed to fit in a Blind Uncle Harry private event show while there. 

Traverse Creek Falls/ Swimming Hole

Traverse Creek Falls/ Swimming Hole 

 

BEER.FOOD.GUNS. Tackle Box Bar & Gun Shop

BEER. FOOD. GUNS. The one the only tackle box bar and gun shop in Chico California where we played last night July 29. The kind of god-fearing, flag waving, meat eating venue that we ordinarily avoid, but you don't get an opportunity to play at a venue with a gun store every day.

i was pretty confident that we could connect with a bunch of Trump-ites, especially with the new songs. Who doesn't like to sing along to 'i took her to Smokin' Jack's Ribs Emporium/ turns out that she is a vegetarian' or 'doesn't seem to be no rhyme nor rule/ so many people are such assholes/ so many others are utter fools/ doesn't mean you've gotta be a tool'? Course they think we rad lefties are the asshole fools, but it still works.

Alas we didn't get a chance. We had an early set and some folks were having dinner, and we got about a minute into 'My Baby Likes to Smoke a Bong While I Go Down on Her Putong' when i felt a set of eyes boring into us and it was a very pissed off very unimpressed looking dude having dinner with his wife and two little boys. So we stopped and did Christmas Day in Australia, Savannah Kentuckiana, Cry Me a Rainbow etc instead, but we still managed to close with Hillbilly Hippie Haiku Heaven. it was definitely one rough fucking place and we mighty happy to get the fuck out of there and back on the road in one piece.

 

Coffee Creek

Our cabin Coffee Creek California

After our overly intense shows in Arcata and Eureka, we are having a little break at a cabin in Coffee Creek, about 2 and a half hours due east up in the mountains and surrounded by the Trinity Alps Wilderness Area. No cell phone reception, no internet connection- it's fucking paradise! The kind of isolated place for people who want nothing to do with crapfest america. Our cabin is right across the road from the wild Trinity River; ten minutes from our place is the sweetest swimming hole I’ve ever encountered- a little inlet from the main river, smooth beautiful river rocks easy access perfect temperature and the view north south and west is wilderness.

 Our new bestest buddy... see the snake?

Yesterday we were hanging out on the bank and we could see a little water snake- about the size of an indiana garter snake- slithering under and around and in between the river stones and it kept getting closer until finally it popped its head above the water and was clearly looking at us- the three of us stayed that way for a long time just hanging out and I think I might have succeeded in getting it stoned by veeerrrry gently blowing smoke in its face.

Nice view from front porch of our cabin :)Redneck Yacht Club, Trinity River

A relatively short walk east across highway 3 is a little café and bar where they serve pizzas with grapes which sounds not all that tantalizing but was actually purty delicious. And just a little further os the redneck yacht club where locals have made a little clearing next to the river with camp chairs and a firepit and some solar lights strung up along the bank and an easy access place to swim.

 

 

Eureka and Little Red Lion Show

Eureka, California: the country is broken. It’s always been broken, but as a society we are so very adept at hiding the rotting carnage behind the flag bill of rights the pledge of allegiance and all the other indoctrination to make us think that the crapfest that is america is somehow a positive (USA! USA! USA!) thing. We played at the Little Red Lion, just north on 101 and only a few blocks from downtown, an area of discount liquor and tobacco, rundown tenements and condemned buildings. Warming up in the parking lot before the show as the evening sky slowly darkened, we watched a steady stream of people peering out of allies, furtively crossing 101, all doing their best to stick to the shadows and draw as little attention to themselves as possible. Many looked like they had just crawled out of the rubble from an aerial bombardment- dirty, clothes ragged, clutching what few possessions they could carry, eyes looking but avoiding direct contact lest it trigger another round of bombing. People limping, people clearly strung out on meth or booze or pinned from heroin, people who only moved at night to avoid detection. Meanwhile eureka has gentrified its ‘old town’ and so there are lots of boozhie as fuck shops selling overpriced ‘art’ to people even more boozhie than they are. Old town where cops appear the instant any homeless or indigent looking person even so much as window shops.

But for me, the worst moment was right after our actual show. The Little Red Lion is definitely a dive bar, and when we were there there were some locals who knew each other and who took turns playing pool. At one point a young non broken looking woman came in and walked through the bar to the restroom, used it, and then proceeded to leave. On the way out the front door the bartender rudely asked her what she was doing. ‘Oh, I just came in to use the restroom' she replied politely. As she was going through the door he yelled ‘yeah well the bathroom is for paying customers, you fucking piece of shit’. So this is what it’s come to. A person is a piece of shit for using a bathroom.

 

Blondie's Show Arcata (Humboldt County) California!!!

Nick and i played last night at Blondie's in Arcata (Humboldt County), about an hour south of the Oregon border on the California redwood coast. Humboldt county is of course universally known as the marijuana growing capital of the usa :) :) :) We had a super fun time playing at Blondie’s, which at least last night was traveling kids central. And you haven’t seen or experienced traveling kids til you’ve spent some time in Arcata, Eureka, or Humboldt County in general. We got joined on stage by Jason on spoons and Ralphie on saw (played it with a violin bow) and this dude Eric hopped up for a bunch of songs on acoustic guitar, which was cool except he was pretty thrashy and didn’t know the chords and it turned out he was bleeding and got blood all over Nick’s lg-o. ‘Ol jason nearly busted his gut laughing when I sang ‘puppy dogs and unicorns/ she was rocking that polyester uniform’ during Savannah Kentuckiana.

We camped that night right on the beach, and spent the next day hanging around the square in Arcata which is hippie progressive central with old dive bars and music shops and guitar stores etc. it’s also home to Humboldt State University so the town is a mix of hippies deadheads traveling kids and progressive students. We had an excellent feed on the town square the next day courtesy of food not bombs.

 

Axe and Fiddle Show Cottage Grove Oregon

It was great to play at the Axe and Fiddle last night in Cottage Grove, about a half hour south of eugene. It's a combination bar and restaurant, so we were playing to folks who were also eating their dinner so songs like ‘my daddy has a great big pee pee’ are always a little tricky. But we did pretty well and folks seemed to like us and we were thrilled to get the gig- especially on a Friday- as it's known as a showcase venue for singer songwriter types. Recently they've had Hobo Nephews of Uncle Frank, Coty Hogue, and the one the only Steve Poltz, to name an illustrious few. 

Here's the pic and blurb from their facebook event page: 

Tonight, we have Blind Uncle Harry here getting started at 8:30pm. They are a singer-songwriter and band collective based out of Bloomington, Indiana, on a month-long West Coast tour in support of their new album, The Gospel According to Blind Uncle Harry. Self-described as "hillbilly hippie folk rock", this show is bound to be unique and, above-all, crowd-pleasing. Come on down, and check them out!

https://www.facebook.com/axeandfiddle/photos/a.589313274500651.1073741833.499211766844136/1022472427851398/?type=3&theater

 

Oregon Dreamin': Rivers and Hot Springs

Other than the obvious- weed is legal- the best thing about Oregon are the rivers. We camped nearly every night for free in national forests, and some of our favorite campsites were on Oregon rivers. Hardly any reason to find a shower cuz we were swimming pretty much every day. Lots of little bumfuck nowhere country towns and rural general stores, like Walton's about an hour west of Eugene. and we also stumbled upon the 'other' laughing planet- it's in eugene! After legalized weed, getting to play at the Axe and Fiddle, and wild rivers, the next best thing in Oregon was Cougar hot springs up in the Cascade Mountains. Clothing optional! Just like tecumseh house!

Our campsite on the Willamette RiverSiuslaw River, hour west of Eugene

 

 

RSS feed