“So where do you see yourself in five years,” I asked an in-over-his-head Franklin D(K) Roblevelt on the phone some blustery April afternoon. The kid had fallen off as of late. Here he thought he was calling me up and clueing me into some springtime inside lefts to ride, but I knew this slurry tone. The tone that runs like a disease through any knee up rider around these parts. Stanley had gotten to this baby seal all right, and I shed a tear as I ended the call and thought of the days when I thought Frankie was different. When I believed Frankie stood a chance. Before all of this. Before he was red eyed and claiming a bloodline to Jack Lindholm when I wasn’t around. Before photoshopping himself onto heavy North Shore sections and posting the fraudulent pics up around Pismo pizzerias and The Scoop. He was doomed. As doomed as Wonka, Red Dog, Louie and me before him. Our sciatic nerves are rousted, our midlife crises came early, and we’re broke and loveless. We are in our thirties and renting. We’re rattled. We might not have Halloween pumpkins and animal skulls in our front yards still, but we need something strong to make it through the night. I was never breastfed.
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As mentioned in the swiftly flagged and removed Los Angeles Volume 4 of the Asthmatic Giant! tour diary on RookiesUSA, the seminal ambient folk sensation has been working on their full length debut LP “Red Dog Confessional”. With riveting synth’d out originals such as “Slammies on my Nipps”, “Red Headed Stepchild Blues”, “Gamer Thug”, and “Talkin’ PFC Blues” the Giant! has summoned the lyrical spirit of Roldy with impeccable honesty and plenty of soul on these new oxy friendly tracks. Check www.myspace.com/asthmaticgiant for release dates.