Photos: Jasmine
Echo Lounge. Dallas. Afroman. A Saturday that already smelled like the song you came for.
Quentin Moore opened. Jo La Fo opened. Keys in the red light, dripping glasses, a room that was in it before he walked out.
Then the flag fit. The gold. The leaf guitar on the stand like a joke that was also the assignment. He held the jeweled cup with his name on it. He did Because I Got High. Of course he did. He did not rush the rest.
I was in front. That's the recap. The pictures are the rest.
Jasmine. Austin. Live music, Black culture, and whatever I actually sat through. I write like I was in the room because I was.
I stand in front of the speakers for a living. Foam from the gas station is not a plan.
No removable lens. No video camera. Your phone is fine until it isn’t. This is what gets past the door.
I had a great time with Obsession. I also spent the whole back half going please do not let anybody love me like that.
Juvenile in SA. Mary at Moody Center. Those records never left the car. That is not a reunion.
Some Austin rooms I can count. Houston does not make me do that math. I still live here.