How I Released a Piece of Half Crap by Elvis Perkins


© Elvis Perkins*

First, I tampered with all of the successful elements of my debut, Ash Wednesday, that caused certain bloggers who shall remain nameless to positively swoon.  I traded my singer-songwriter role for a band with obnoxious brass instruments like the trombone, which is only tolerated during Mardi Gras, and then only grudgingly.

The downfall of innumerable musicians of American tradition, I parlayed my reputation as The nprNext Dylan for several exposures on NPR, the great arbiter of urban cool.  No one survives NPR’s stage-whispered faux punditry with any dignity and I knew it.

I started to believe my own manufactured press.

In place of my debut’s gorgeous, organic arc of ballads like  “While You Were Sleeping,” “Ash Wednesday,” and “Good Friday,” I filled the enigmatically self-titled Elvis Perkins in Dearland with a series of barroom pleasers that served my backing band and hearkened uncomfortably to Bim Skala Bim.  Even the disc’s highlight, “123 Goodbye” is muddled with a Big Finish.

My haircut got even weirder.


And I actually credited someone on the disc for playing the scissors.

That is how I released a piece of half crap.  If by some strange circumstance or public radio-induced beat hipsterism you disagree, thank you for granting me this artistic license and please pick up a handy Elvis Perkins 100% cotton totebag at my merchandise store.

*Some celebrity posts ghost written by blog staff.

Leave a Reply