Waiting For Good Tunes... Espers 'The Weed Tree'.

The 1st time I ever thought about what a Bar Mitzvah might sound like was while listening to Espers. Ostensibly I had gone to hear Jack Rose pick lint off his guitar strings, but arrived early enough to catch the Espers set. I'd never heard of them. I asked someone who was playing. They whispered "Espers". I thought they said "vespers", which means a prayer or some church thing. But Espers doesn't mean anything! Can I get an "I hear ya!" on that? Anyway, yeah, a Bar Mitzvah. What more need be said? They also reminded me of some old coots who played in my grandmother's library once when I was a kid. Not musically or anything, but in both instances I was polite enough to stay awake for the entire set. I don't care what you say, manners are important. It's a good thing they don't let (real) retarded people into their shows. There would be a lot more sleepyheads at the bar if that was the case! Talk about a buzzkill. Which brings me to the record at hand. I can't say why they chose this particular set of songs to cover. Maybe they thought it was clever, or funny or something. I will say this: that Greg Weeks is one clever bro! I mean, to whistle up a band & connive an entire generation that baroque, chamber music is cool & hip? Bravo, Greg, Bravo. He's like the Peter Jefferies for the 00 decade. And another thing; 2 of the women in this band are incredibly striking. One looks like the Yul Brynner robot in Westworld w/a cancer wig. The other resembles an Amish Heather Graham. Talk about funny! I know it's ironical, but still, forewarned is forearmed. People have been known to die of laughter. Okay, so covers of Blue Oyster Cult, Durritti Column, Nico, Michael Hurley, ad naseum. It's like saying " NOW WE HAVE DECODER RINGS"! From the coonskin caps of Brattleborough, Vermont, to the snuffy whiskers of New York City across the prairie to the alpaca toques of Portland, Oregon, the New Weird America will be falling all over themselves to bestow their highest accolades to the genius of Greg Weeks and The Espers. Buying a tofurki won't be so easy after this set of songs comes out. Not since Other Music had the audacity to sell a Little Feat record for $20.00 has anyone had the unmitigated gaul to do something so untoward as to reduce a BOC song to nothing more than the mournful background music for some poor Yids Shiva. I can admit here: no amount of strings, whether they be cello or guitar, can make the Durutti Column even remotely interesting. If Michael Hurley ever hears their cover of "Blue Mountain" it will be a race between him and the rattlesnakes as to who spends the rest of their lives hiding in embarassment inside the cab of some of old car he has marooned on cinderblocks in his front yard. And Nico died riding a bike. Right? People ride bikes in Philadelphia all of the time! As for the rest of the songs, well, the less said the better. Let the French decipher the brilliance of their choices. They're good at that sort of thing. I should know. I am from France.

Samuel Beckett
Frenchman