Bostworld

In the early fall of 1996, my friend Bruce Sandig and I traveled down to Tucson to appear in a video for my brother’s cable television show. I guess Damon must have been desperate to fill time on his November episode. Why else would he invite Today’s Sounds on his show?

Any doubt I might have had that Bruce would balk at having to perform “Let’s Turkey Trot” dressed up like a pilgrim was quickly laid to rest. He jumped at the opportunity to appear on television. So, we visited the local party store for some paper hats and scored some shirts and vests from Goodwill. We completed the ridiculous ensemble with some black biker shorts from Wall Mart. Then we drove down to Tucson to meet up with my brother. I tortured Bruce during the drive with my off-key demos of songs that didn’t make it on the record.

As the video clearly shows, our holiday garb was an actual cut above our regular street clothes. For our pantomime studio performance, we both wore hideous shorts and polo shirts. Then we donned our costumes and hit the park, where we danced and chased the birds. We were supposed to be duck hunting (shade of Elmer Fudd), but I’m not sure our exaggerated expressions denote hunger so much as a kind of pained longing (for what, I’m not sure).

Your Truly is featured in the second clip as well, an unintentionally hilarious version of “MacArthur Park” by David Martin and “The Bostrom Arts Ensemble.” This is a live performance, of sorts, with Damon and I (on piano and drums respectively) backing up Martin, who sings and plays trombone. It’s an eccentric rendition to say the least. Martin’s howling performance is made all the more eerie by his striking “hippie” garb. Adding to the instability of the preceding, Damon insisted that he and I play along to a pre-recorded computerized track. There weren’t enough channels for a click track, apparently, so I was forced to comp along to the barely audible bass part in my headphones. Damon and I don’t so much “play” the song as hunt desperately for our places in the arrangement. If anything, Martin saves the mess with his oddball intensity and frankly misguided commitment to the material.