D.S. Yancey
Salt the Earth & Fill Your Hands
Thinker Thought Records

So, who the hell is D.S. Yancey? Well, he’s a trucker. Actually, he’s a trucker with an acoustic guitar and a harmonica, so I guess that makes him a blue collar troubadour of sorts. He’s the kind of bare naked and broken folk singer who tells stories of love, loss, and the people and places who fill the American landscape. Salt the Earth & Fill Your Hands, the Phoenix singer’s second album, is a musical travelogue, a bittersweet scrapbook filled with heroes, losers, Jesus, hard times, bad luck, the rape of the land, life on the road, and the belief that the oft-dismal pursuit of the American dream means just gettin’ by as best you can. The songs ramble with a country n’ punk soul, Yancey’s voice straining with the emotion of a man who’s seen it all but is still struggling to understand it, and, despite their occasions of misanthropy (or perhaps because of them), provide an abundance of comfort in their dusty truth. If he hasn’t yet, Yancey really ought to be mentioned in the same breath as singer/songwriters like Tim Barry, Chuck Ragan, Cranford Nix, and Jay Bennett. D.S. Yancey, then, is a trucker with an acoustic guitar and a harmonica, headed down the highway that leads to glory.

Listen to “Barstow To Vegas” from Salt the Earth & Fill Your Hands!

“Merlin wasn’t real.”
“Fuck you Merlin wasn’t real.”
“It’s a story.”
“Merlin was part of King Henry’s court and he fucking won all the wars for him ’cause he cast spells. Fuck you, man. That shit’s real.”
“He was part of King Arthur, not King Henry…”
“Yeah, it’s a fable. A fable is history.”

Ah, FUBAR. Amazing. But you know something? Deaner got it absolutely right. A fable is history. The divide between truth and fiction has long since vanished and wizards walk — or, rather, rock — amongst us. I know. So what you’re about to read, everything I’m about to tell you of the outlaw Gideon Smith and his court of motorcycle madmen, The Dixie Damned, may sound like pure cowboy fantasy, a Southern-fried fairy tale full of tumbleweed, rattlers, whiskey, blood, dust, ghosts, and backwoods psychedelia, but it’s simply this: the narcotic we desire most.

Gideon, the Charlotte, North Carolina native, began life as a wizard when he apprenticed at the faithful and frenzied school of Destructo Maximus as a roadie while under the bloody-faced tutelage of Jeff Clayton and his band of wrestlin’ lovin’ murder junkies, ANTiSEEN. The years he spent in that chaotic foxhole, surrounded by barb wire and explosives, arm in arm with the Confederacy of Scum, would spark in him a desire to branch out on his own. So, in 1997, Gideon took that giant leap into outlaw territory with some former Animal Bag members, now dubbed The Dixie Damned.

Gideon Smith & The Dixie Damned spin a swampy brand of blues-infused doom rock, a heavy dose of Southern boogie n’ groove with a hairy chest and meat cleavers for hands. They mix the super-sized spirituality of The Cult with the chain gang riffs of Circus of Power and end up with a shamanistic brand of trippy, bad-ass, redneck biker rock. Gideon’s vocals might be some of the most recognizable in all of rock n’ roll, rolling out of his diaphragm like they’re coming up from the bottom of a well, where Elvis’ bloated carcass floats face down in bong water. The band released a self-titled EP some time after forming, but it wasn’t until 2004′s full-length, Southern Gentlemen, that word came down that there was a new wizard in town.

But, like a wizard is wont to do, Gideon vanished for a few years, appearing only on various tribute albums and compilations. He spent his years in exile dealing with death and cultivating is outlaw way of life, recording some spoken word/poetry stuff on such themes as paganism, the occult, the power of positive thinking, beauty, creativity, and strength, and writing his manifesto, Way of the Outlaw Spirit. Gideon Smith & The Dixie Damned returned to the fold with a six-song EP, Dealin’ Decks, and their second full-length in 2008, South Side of the Moon.

So, what’s Gideon up to now? How goes it in the world of this particular wizard, this rock n’ roll outlaw? What bearded mischief has he been up to? Well, I take council with the man himself, my brother in both wizardry and beard, and we discuss such epic matters as his new album, what it means to be an outlaw, what it means to be a wizard (and how we can’t actually discuss anything to do with wizardry because it’s all top secret), and, of course, beards. There’s even an uncomfortable moment when I mention something about a girl and some chains. This is the stuff you crave, my friend. This is the fable of truth.

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This film is a dramatization of events that occurred October 1st through the 9th of 2000, in the Northern Alaskan town of Nome. To better explain the events of this story, the director has included actual archived footage throughout the film…Every dramatized scene in this movie is supported by either archived audio, video or as it was related by Dr. Tyler during extensive interviews with the director. In the end, what you believe is yours to decide. Please be advised that some of what you’re about to see is extremely disturbing.

That’s Milla Jovovich at the beginning of The Fourth Kind, breaking the wall in order to pull us into a strange world of psychological fury and alien abductions. Jovovich plays Dr. Abigail Tyler, whose work as a psychologist treating abducted patients is documented in this movie through, as the intro suggests, actual video and audio shot by Dr. Tyler during her sessions and actor-portrayed dramatizations, kind of like what you used to get on shows like Unsolved Mysteries or Rescue 911. Only there’s no Stack, no Shatner, but the search for the truth is pretty much the same.

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