I heard a band on Weekend Edition and coulda sworn it was The Band but it was a band called The Ghourds. The Band is one of my fave bands EVER. Maybe the The Ghourds are good, too. Here’s what they had to say about their music, which they describe as music for the unwashed and well-read.

Many have attempted to personify, lablefly, quantify, verbalize and sanctify the concoction of musical quilts these here gourds have somehow knit together. In a saucepan of slow roasts they have conjured tempo’s, tango’s, waltzes, zydeco, old timey, two step, lowgrooved, long winded, short tailed, tiny, phat, stompin gizmo’s of tunes tripped out of lonely, solid teeth and wet green earth. Bugs all bedazzled with this comic tear soaked golden throated close harmony caved in a corner with hat drippin’ rain. Lo and behold lo and behold they was just lookin’ for they lo and behold.

With obscure references to everything from desmond dekker, black adder, folk mythology, Oregon motels, baby gramps, Curtis Mayfield songs, Spanish poetry, u.s. currency, leadbelly, isopropyl alcohol, various controlled substances, sex, food, arachnids, insects, archetypal psychology, NFL, liquid gold, Sufis, preachers, old testament bible stories, mud, betrayal and masturbation’s, The Gourds seem to let their music fry just long enough before they turn it over and brown it on the other side.

There is just absolutely no way to categorize this music, these songs, without tearing up the English language. On any given night, in any given bar, somewhere out in Eugene or Amarillo or Jacksonville or Lincoln. In new York city, Chicago, Dallas, San Francisco, Seattle or Austin. One can sit listening to a gourds show without a clue as to where in the hell it’s gonna go. They are quilters in the true sense of the word. Scraps, fragments, leftovers, images strung together in a continuous scrabble of sheets draped over old wood like charm. This is first and foremost a music of joy. From there itís anybody’s guess what the friggin’ hell it is.

One thing is for sure though. They know what it is. But damned if these bunch of loblolly’s can tell you anything about it. They just do what they do and it comes out all gourd-like and silvery and wood-like and watery.