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Warpin' the Duke City

Vans Warped Tour hits ABQ

This year's Warped Tour features Bring Me the Horizon, Attila, Pierce the Veil and more.
Tim McGraw in Burque
Renee Chavez

Music

Music was great, beer was good, and people were crazy

“Someday you’ll be looking back on your life/ At the memories, this is gonna be one of those nights”. Yep, Grammy Award-winning Tim McGraw sums it up pretty darn well. The “Shotgun Rider Tour” made a stop at Isleta Amphitheater (5601 University Blvd. SE) on Friday night with Chase Bryant, Billy Currington and Tim McGraw and it was definitely one of those nights.

The sold out venue was packed with all manner of people, from rhinestone-bedazzled country girls straight out of a Shepler’s catalogue to emo kids with weird hair--the buzzing crowd showed that country certainly ain’t just for farm hands and mountain folk anymore.

Chase Bryant was up first at 7pm, looking like he just came from a preppy frat party but getting the crowd going with his hit single “Take It On Back”. While still relatively new to the scene, the Nashville native is definitely one to watch and even made Rolling Stone Magazine's list of “10 Country Artists You Need to Know”. Either way it looked like he was having a blast as he got the crowd standing and cranked away on a mustard-yellow Gibson Les Paul.

As anyone who has ever been to a concert knows, the time between sets is usually pretty boring and is only good for making a run to the beer tent. However, the speakers and giant screens kept the crowd entertained with ridiculously goofy ED and anti-depressant ad spoofs with Tim McGraw concerts as the “cure”. I laughed, I cried, I sang.

As the temperature finally cooled down, the music got hotter with Billy Currington taking the stage and playing an energetic 13-song setlist that included hilarious “Pretty Good at Drinkin’ Beer”, sexy “Must Be Doin’ Something Right” and a country version of “Uptown Funk” complete with coordinated moves from the band that had the crowd going wild. Repping his 6th album, Summer Forever, which was released last week, Currington more than fulfilled his duty in getting the crowd pumped.

Just as darkness fell over the sweating city, with a thundering intro and fans’ ear-piercing screams even louder than the speakers, McGraw blasted into his set with the 1999 classic “Something Like That.” “Truck Yeah” was up next amid the glow of thousands of smartphones being held up in the air. McGraw kept the energy high, bouncing between beloved older tunes like “Just to See You Smile” and newer favorites like “Diamond Rings and Old Barstools”. Wearing his trademark black hat and tight jeans, he lived up to his title as a Country Music Icon and Top Male performer.

The encore was so awesome even Mother Nature cried with McGraw’s first single from 1994, “Indian Outlaw”, bringing on a dash of rain and some serious rain dancing. What a show! But if you missed it, don’t worry--according to a recent interview, McGraw says he’ll be working ‘til he’s 100 to keep the ladies in his family happy so he’ll certainly make it back to Burque.

A View From the "Inca Hotel"
A. March

news

A telegram from the Southern lands

This time round the sun, June’s solstice falls upon the same day as the American holiday called Father’s Day, on the 21st day of the month.

The same coincidentally calendrical conjunction came to pass 23 years ago; the day called twenty June nineteen hundred and ninety two was the last day of spring in Albuquerque. Practically everyone dwelling amidst the middle latitudes of the North American continent celebrated fatherhood the day after. I’m sure they did that here too or so I was told.

I was in Cuenca, Ecuador where the earth was preparing for winter, though you sure as hell couldn’t tell at the latitude of 2 degrees south. It was hot and humid all over that damn country and I had to carry around a cotton kerchief to keep the sweat off my eyes. I kept the towel in a pocket with my father’s Swiss Army knife. It was the fancy kind with a fork y todo. He told me at the Sunport it would come in handy in the jungle and I couldn’t wait to use the goddamn thing on a tasty lizard or a stubborn piece of bamboo.

I planned to stay a couple of rotations and then drive down from the highlands to the northeast, where the Amazon Jungle crept up into the land. There was a town called Macas out there; I had already chartered a plane to ride me out along the Rio Pastaza to an indigenous settlement in the rainforest. I’d be working for some anthropologists as a sound recordist.

I wandered around Cuenca. There was a fine pizzeria. For a 10 more Sucre, patrons could have their pies topped with small purple potatoes or guinea pig meat. Being a bit nervous about consuming either, I opted for the four-cheese pie.

The long distance service was spotty back then. The cook told me I could send a telegram from the police station. I walked over there, regailed the machine-gun carrying officials with my shitty Spanish and sent a telegram to my old man. I told him I was having a grand time and wished him a happy Father’s Day.

The city also had a magnificent plaza built around a mountainous cathedral. The church had gold accouterments, baroque domes. The Andes rose up behind the basilica like a greater order of magical edifices imposed upon the viewer for the sake of comparison.

Come Saturday night there was big party in the center of town. Many citizens walked down to the plaza holding hands, singing songs about the sun and the land. One of them stopped me, asked me where I was from, guessed that I was Israeli or Persian. I tried to tell him I was an American from Albuquerque, but he ran off, laughing and pointing at the sky.

My hotel, the Inca, was nearby to the church – which by now was surrounded by people filling and releasing paper lantern/balloons into the air. The paper bags, each lit by a candle, drifted around the cathedral like angels might and then floated away, towards the mountains.

I picked up an old copy of Time Magazine in the lobby and took the stairs to my room. As I settled in to read a fine article about 1977’s Man of the Year someone pounded on the door. I opened it. The man on the other side had a gun. He flashed an identification card, told me to come with him and waved the gun around like it was just another celebratory instrument of the solstice.

Downstairs, there was a car waiting. I turned around to protest and realized the gun had been gently pressed to the back of my head for what I reckoned were at least two very long minutes. I was urged to take a seat in the back of the car.

By now, night had fallen. It was dark as hell. We drove around and around the outskirts of Cuenca while the driver and the gunman argued. Occasionally the latter, wearing a dirty Adidas baseball cap, turned around to face me, brandished the gun, winked and smiled a toothy smile. Finally we were on the road out of town. I began to think of my father as two paper balloons passed by the windows of that automobile.

Remembering I had his knife in my front pocket it occurred to me that I could stab Mr. Adidas in the neck and thereby save myself. But as the vehicle slowed down to cross a bridge, I came up with another idea. I quickly unlocked the backseat door, opened it, yelled “Fuck It Dude, Life’s a Risk!” at the top of my lungs and rolled out onto the highway.

Mr. Adidas and his friend screeched the car to a halt. I hid under the bridge and covered myself in mud. After a few minutes splashing around the creek rather angrily, the two stormed off, still cussing and yelling. I remained absolutely still when I saw the muzzle flash from the receding coche.

Soaking wet and tired as crap, I walked along the highway until I came upon a farmhouse. There was a phone there. The farmer offered me a drink and a cigarette while we waited for the police.

It was dawn on the first day of summer when we arrived at the police station. One of the policemen took me aside and said, “You’re that hombre from Albuquerque, no? I replied I was and wondered how he knew that, since my passport didn’t mention it. He told me my father had replied to my telegram, that I could pick up his telegraphic response on my way out.

The telegram from my father was succinct. It was too hot in Burque. He was going to have Father’s Day Brunch with my sister at the Rancher’s Club. He hoped the knife he had given me came to good use, out there in South America.

Jesse Schulz

Music

Rooster Roundabout: This week’s music highlights

Writer Mark Lopez muses on Eagles of Death Metal, a new Beck track and a new Kurt Vile record.

news

The Daily Word in the confederate flag, the KKK and the Queen of Española

The Daily Word

Texas says no to confederate flags on license plates.

Two men from South Africa became stowaways on a British Airlines flight to London. The adventure didn't go so well.

A cruise ship in upstate New York suffered a collision while 274 passengers and crew members were on board. Only minor injuries were reported.

Adult summer camps are all the rage this season.

Dylann Roof is said to possibly be affiliated with Neo Nazis. Here's the current 411 on the KKK and other US supremacy groups.

243 medical professionals were charged with false billings to the tune of $700 million in a giant Medicare scam.

Thousands of international travelers are S.O.L. after the US government's visa system crashed.

A woman's dismembered body was found in an abandoned home in Niagara Falls three years after a relative's body was discovered in a similar fashion.

A lesson on quinoa.

The Queen of Española's crown has been stolen and now she may lose the throne.

Triple-digit weather is coming to the metro this weekend. Wear your sunscreen, drink your h2o, and have a Happy Father's Day!

Via Wikipedia

Alibi Picks

Dads and Giraffes

Zoo Dads and World Giraffe Day

Celebrate Father's Day and the longest-necked animal on Earth at the zoo.

news

The Daily Word in murder, women and small-town crimes.

The Daily Word

Who is Dylann Roof?

Dozens more women and children murdered by Boko Haram in Niger.

What does the beginning of Ramadan look like around the world?

Iranian women might be allowed to watch volleyball matches again!

11-year-old is youngest US Chess Master.

Move over Alexander Hamilton.

First rape clinic for men and boys opens in Sweden.

Espanola Valley Fiesta Queen’s crown stolen.

Despicable T or C officer shot a dog seven times.

Via MorgueFile

Alibi Picks

Arts, Crafts, Minerals, Oh My!

Mama's Minerals Arts & Crafts Fair

Featuring 150 one-of-a-kind arts & crafts booths, face painting, food trucks, live music and more.

news

The Daily Word: art schtuff

The Daily Word

the past, now in glorious technicolor!

who needs a brush?

$9 computer

dangerdust

dissect your childhood

cut it out

damn girl, are you an ancient philosophical text? because I’m learning a lot about myself and the universe from looking at you

jesus, does anyone draw anything anymore?

I guess not.

show offs

handi-art-able

News

The Daily Word in a Bernalillo County Commission meeting today about Santolina and some crayon talk

RIP Blaze Starr

The Daily Word

Cloudcroft destroyed a 16 foot piñata last weekend.

The Bernalillo County Commission is meeting to discuss the Santolina development today at 1pm.

The Colorado Supreme Court says yes, you can be fired for being a pothead. Or a medical marijuana user.

Donald Trump is running for president. Also, "Jeb!"

Never mind the bollocks, here's your high-APR Sex Pistols-themed Virgin credit card.

White black woman Rachel Dolezal debate moves into the peach and brown crayons arena.

American men and women are fatter than they were in the 60's.

Burlesque dancer Blaze Starr died.

The Chicago Blackhawks won the Stanley Cup. Here are some weird Stanley Cup stories.

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