Roky Erickson

So wow, last night's concert was a trip, dude! I had never seen Roky before and wasn't really sure I wanted to go last night, it being a school night and all and me being tired/sleep-deprived as usual. But then P. said he wanted to go and my dad (whose #1 hero is Roky Erickson) said he was going w/his girlfriend and also lots of folks on Facebook were telling me to go, so I decided I'd better do it. And I was glad b/c this guy is a true living legend and he's been through hell and shit, it's just important for me to be able to say I've been in the same damn room with him, much less seen his live show.

The opening band was boring as hell so after greeting my dad I went to the back bar to watch the Olympics/read the Houston Press. I ran into an old hippie guy I knew and he was back there to try and grab Roky as he came into the club to have him sign some stuff. My dad also needed one of his Roky Erickson lyrics books signed and had asked me for my help in doing so. As much as my dad drives me crazy and says mean-spirited, insensitive things to me all the time (including earlier this week), I couldn't help but want to sort of help him after he handed to me a gift of a burned CD of some of his (and my) all-time favorite songs, a CD he'd made for his drive to Ft. Worth last fall.

But when Roky arrived at the club he was immediately ushered backstage past all of us fawning admirers. I had the book in my hand but couldn't really take any action at that time. My hippie friend and I looked at each other and figured we'd try after the show. But my dad (who was definitely drunk by that time) said he wanted to try and get it done now b/c he probably wasn't going to stay 'til the bitter end, and I know I wasn't, it being so damn cold outside and me having a long day today of my 2 jobs followed by rehearsal tonight.

By then P. had arrived and the 3 of us went to the backstage hallway to try and figure out what to do. I had already asked the club proprietor (who I know) in a sweet voice if Roky was going to sign anything before the show and was told "No. Maybe after." But back there in the hallway there was no one guarding the door to the dressing room. My dad said he might just go in there and get his book signed and before I could change my mind I just said fuck it, "I'll do it." And just knocked on the door and quickly went on in there. Roky was sitting on the couch, chilling w/his wife, and the drummer was just sitting nearby drumming w/his drumsticks on the floor and I asked very sweetly, "Mr. Erickson, will you sign my book please?" (Imagine honey dripping from that sentence.) And he asked me how many I had (!!!) to which I just said the one, to which he said ok. I thrust it in his hand along w/the Sharpie and said hi to his wife and told him he was my dad's hero and I'd bought the book for my dad for his b-day (which may actually be true, I can't remember if I got it for him or if my brother did) and he signed it and I thanked him and told him to "Rock out" and I was outta there! I actually left a puff of smoke where I'd been standing.

Outside my dad was guarding the door and BS-ing this hot blonde who good-naturedly was accusing him of going into the dressing room to get something signed and my dad was denying it, so I hid the book and Sharpie and stood in the shadows--I certainly didn't want to encourage a trend of people barging in on Roky and disturbing him. My dad finally admitted he had sent his "beautiful daughter" in there to try and get something signed, then he saw me and asked what had happened and I shrugged and headed down the hallway. I found P. and the hippie guy and showed them my success! My dad showed up several minutes later and I gave him the book, to which he announced he could now sell it on Ebay for $500.

I cannot believe how PACKED the club was, on a school night and at 10:30pm! But the band was totally killer and Roky was clearly enjoying himself and although the music is harder than I usually listen to, it was damn good music and I completely appreciated it. I snapped a few pic's for my own personal archive. Finally, around 11:15pm I decided I needed to get home and get some rest, so P. walked me out and then he went back in to see the rest of the show. Before I left my even-now-drunker dad kissed my hand and gave the book to me, telling me to hold on to it as a family heirloom and also b/c if it was left w/him he might sell it for crack. When I got home I put it in my special glass bookcase.