album cover
The Disconnected
On Tour
album cover
The Disconnected was released on December 4, 2020 by Saustex Records & Entertainment, LLC as a part of the album Yap
AlbumYap
December 4, 2020
LabelSaustex Records & Entertainment, LLC
LanguageEnglish
BPM197
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy

Lyrics

I played anywhere I could in Austin. The chance of a paying gig was
Pretty slim, but I had to get my name around, so I'd take anything
Or invent something. No matter what the obstacle, I could take it
And more often than not, turn it around. The worst gigs I ever had
Were back in Albany anyway: a trailer park where when they passed the
Hat I got a gum wrapper; a camp reunion where I played under a low
Tarp in the rain, and the water kept dumping on me until my guitar
Was so wet the wood buckled. But it was a volleyball game that took
The prize. Five hundred kids at a Catholic college. I played while
They smacked that volleyball around. Nobody paid attention to
Me. They yelled over the music, and I'm, and I'm pretty damn
Loud. And oddly enough, the priest when he paid me, five
Hundred dollars, my biggest paying gig by far at that point
Said, "I hope you'll come back next year." And anything was
Better than my hometown of Syracuse. When I played there, a loud
Acoustic player doing punk and spoken word, it was too alien
"He has two heads. He's not the same as us. We must kill him."
Austin was different. No paying gigs to be sure, but you could do
A shitload of open mics to hone your craft and hopefully kick their
Ass to get your name around. I had a temp job, working with the
State by day, a keypunch gig, and Monday nights I could hit two
Open mics, Tuesday three if I ran around fast enough, and I never
Missed all three, Wednesday and Thursday two each. There were none
On the weekends, but sometimes you could score an opener. Alejandro
Escovedo was always good to me. Maybe you could get your own gig
And there were a ton of benefits to play. And unlike other towns I
Had lived in, in Austin people actually came out for the benefits
Somebody had seen me at an open mic and called me to do a benefit
For the Police Benevolent Association. I rarely work in cahoots
With the police, but they were building a shelter for battered
Children. Of course, I was in. I remember it being a gorgeous day
I was relatively new to town, but it was brutally apparent
Immediately how great the weather was compared to living in upstate
New York. There were a ton of bands that day: rockabilly
Surf, country, Tejano, Tex-Mex, zydeco, polka, swing
Singer-songwriters, and even Scottish bagpipes
It started at noon and ended at two in the morning
My set was at five o'clock. It went pretty well. I wanted to hang
Around, but my wife was sick, so I needed to get home to take care
Of her. I was bringing my gear to my car when I was approached by
Three young kids. Two guys and a girl, in their early teens. They
Were all pumped up, red in the face, enthusiastic. "We really liked
What you did." They had a ton of questions. "What do you call that?
How do you get that guitar to sound like that? Where are you from?
What do you listen to? Do you have any CDs?" I was flattered, gave
Them the scoop as best I could. I really had nothing going on then
I turned the line of inquiry to them. They were in a band. Hardcore
Straight edge, metal punk. The Disconnected. They showed me their
Card. It said it all right there, including the biggest text of all
"No ballads." Big, bold letters. "No ballads." Serious. I asked them
What time they were playing. "Two thirty a.m.," they said. I thought
For a second, pulled a homer. "Wait a minute," I said. "The benefit
Ends at two." They said, "Yeah, the promoter is afraid that we'll
Scare people away, so he's going to let us play when everybody
Leaves." I admired their spunk. I loved to play too and I understood
They kept going on about the hailstorm they went through to get
There. They came from Corpus Christi, but the bass player
The driver, the only one old enough for a license, said
He never went below sixty-five. I was unfamiliar with
Texas. I asked him how long it took to get there, and he
Said three hours. Three hours to play to nobody. For free
When I was in seventh grade, two of my first concerts were Jimi
Hendrix and The Who. The Who with Keith Moon. It kinda fucked me up
For life, setting the bar astronomically high. I play with a million
Young bands now, who come up to me and ask, "How'd you like our band?
" I was twelve years old when The Who came out, did these incredible
Songs, played great, sang great, wrecked their gear, fought with each
Other, and the most amazing drummer in the world died and was
Resurrected every night. That was a fucking band. I carried Sleater-
Kinney's gear into a club once, and the lead singer pouted through the
Whole set because it was too hot in Texas. I'd been all excited for
The saviors of rock and roll that night. Never believe spin. I told
The Disconnected that I'd try to come back to see them at two thirty
And I did. Sure enough, everybody had gone, and they played to an
Enormous field under the Texas stars to me and three of their friends
. They were fucking great. They played like their lives depended on
It. Fast, furious, passionate, for every battered kid that gig was
Benefitting. I helped them load into their car. I couldn't
Have put them up. My apartment was too small. My wife was sick
So I don't know why I asked, but I did. "Are you going back
Tonight, or are you staying?" They said they were staying
They wanted to hit the record stores tomorrow. "Do you have a
Place to stay?" "Oh yeah," they replied. "We're staying at a
Friend's." I was relieved. I was off the hook. "Yeah," they
Grinned. "He won't be there, but he says we can stay in his yard."
Written by: Ed Hamell
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