By Jack Betz

This past Friday night was my first time at Mango’s Cafe in Houston and I must say that it’s a phenomenal venue: the levels were good, the beer was cheap, and their vegetarian pizza was tasty. However, it was my second time seeing Warpaint and I was stoked.

“Buxton” opened last time I saw Warpaint, in February, but I was kind of late so I missed ninety-five percent of their set; this time I came earlier. Buxton had a satisfying country-folk feel but with some indie-rock flourishes like loud, over-driven, guitar. The vocals were delivered in a folksy, yodeling, manner that sometimes went slightly off key and it accented the music perfectly.

I was fortunate enough to talk to Balaclavas outside on the Mango’s patio before the show and they were very friendly guys. One of them even directed me to a website called “Trouser Press” which is a guide to alternative and underground rock music. I just bookmarked it a few minutes ago. Anyway, their live music nothing like I’ve ever experienced before. As soon as they went on, I was immediately entranced by the strange mix of noise and music that ensued. The studio versions of these songs I listened to, before the show on Friday, were good but during a live set, these songs exploded into a fascinating flurry of feedback, drum machine, and dancy bass lines. Obviously, being a very loud band, it was difficult to make out the vocals of Balaclavas but on their studio recordings they sound a little bit like those of Peter Murphy from Bauhaus (as does some of their music). Balaclavas was definitely my favorite new find of the night and they’re from Houston so I hope I can catch them again this summer.

To my surprise, Warpaint, who was headlining the entire show, went on in the penultimate time slot rather than Grandfather Child. Since Warpaint came on early, I rushed through the crowd, pushing, shoving, and issuing apologies for drinks spilled and elbows brushed. It’s surprising how many people will let you through if you’re waving a camera above your head like a lunatic.

Warpaint, for those of you who don’t know, is an all-female, experimental, rock band from LA and they seem to like Texas because they already played Houston once about two months ago and SXSW a few weeks ago. The whole set was excellent but my two favorite songs were “Stars” and “Elephants”. Emily Kokal and Theresa Wayman provided haunting, mournful, vocals that only intensified the power of the somber melodies the rest of the band played. Emily Kokal (guitar and lead vocals) and Stella Mozgawa (on drums) were hands down the best performers in the band. It was hard to take my eyes or camera off of Emily Kokal; she seemed to exude some kind of dark electricity during the performance. It’s hard to explain to anyone who hasn’t seen her live but she’s an excellent performer. Warpaint definitely brought it.

“Grandfather Child” was the last act and regrettably I didn’t stay for their entire set because I was sort of worried about whether or not my car was gonna get towed but I saw about five songs and thoroughly enjoyed them. They’re a local band and I’ve seen them on a lot of different bills so I don’t think it will be last opportunity to enjoy their music this summer. Grandfather Child’s music contains elements of funk and blues with a generous helping of beautiful lap steel guitar playing. The vocals were bluesy and soulful too which was a huge shift in style from the elegiac crooning of Warpaint. It added an extra dash of variety to the lineup. It was a great show overall (plus my car never got towed). With four bands on one bill, the chances are pretty high that at least one of them is going to suck but to my delight, they were all excellent.

I hope you guys had as much fun as I had this Saturday. I sure had a blast listening to great music, running into just about everyone I know, and it’s nice to see Westheimer with some hustle and bustle on its sidewalks.

Some highlights? OK! The Wild Moccasins played a great show outside Mango’s on a rickety stage that seemed to be on the verge of collapse from all the hopping and general Moccasins shenanigans. The added amusement for me was watching as my very serious and artistically minded six-year-old tried in futility to find a spot on stage stable enough for him to draw the five popsters. Damn it, how can I express myself artistically if you guys keep hopping around up there! Hearing Paul Winstanley and Lucas Gorham perform outside La Strada was wonderful too. I hadn’t heard Paul take a bass guitar to the edge like that in ages and it was wonderful and challenging to hear it again. Also fun was the (this time official) Cop Warmth and B L A C K I E gorilla set. Cop Warmth, for the uninitiated, is the musical equivalent of children running around the playground in pure chaotic frenzied joy. My favorite moment of the set was when Craig, running into the audience, made a woman squeal in fright. B L A C K I E meanwhile doesn’t so much a rap as spout words like a steel-driver laying down iron with every ounce of energy at his disposal. Balaclavas, at the acoustically pleasing space behind the Austin Layne Hotel, performed one of the best sets of the day as they kicked-out amazing new material that reminded you just how unique their sound is and how furious their shows can be. How they are not one of Houston’s biggest draws, I’ll never understand. Over at Mango’s, as we were waiting for Tambersauro, we got some drama as some drunk Asian woman was challenging another woman to some fisticuffs. Unfortunately, the fisticuffs did eventually occur outside but while no one was getting hurt, it was pretty amusing theatre of the absurd. Tambersauro though wasn’t about to be upstaged by a lone drunk and proceeded to tear into a raging set that almost made me forget that I was trying to see five bands in that time slot. Luckily a friend who knew this, poked me and pointed to her watch. Thanks mon ami! The McKenzies were quite a sight surrounded by an enthusiastic crowd of fans who had joined them on stage. Ah, those Houston pop bands sure know how to work-up a crowd. Buxton closed out the outdoor shows with an amazing set that had the entire crowd at the Austin Layne Hotel enraptured. After the first set, the audience clearly wanted more and thankfully JD (Secret Saturday Shows, Guitars, Lenny Briscoe, etc) demanded they play a few more and Sergio Trevino somehow agreed to it in his typical sheepish manner then proceeded to treat us with a work in progress that was much better than I think they realized. I think Trevino and company work their music with such expert care that they seem a bit worried about showing some rough edges. That’s OK because there is a bit of excitement about seeing a band not exactly knowing where they are going with a song and that vulnerability – that putting yourself out there with no net – is charming when you are as good a band as Buxton. Now for me that was pretty much the proper end of the Block Party for me. I was pretty tired by then but, like the Terminator, the Block Party just wouldn’t quit. Don’t get me wrong, I saw some amazing sets afterwards like Something Fierce laying down some serious and furious pop-punk and Satin Hook’s Lucas Gorham using a Tuvan throat singing technique for backing vocals but by the time the Jon Benet plowed into their set, I was physically fatigued. I’ll admit it. Another Block Party has left me beaten and bloody on the canvas. So, what’s new? At least I had fun getting pummeled.

Now one last thing before I get to the photos: Kudos to our heroic and fearless FPH leader Omar. Omar is the general behind all these operations; he books all the bands and gets everyone involved to little acclaim. That’s largely because he’s not one to self-aggrandize but, instead, seriously believes in the community of artists and people that live in this city. I for one, seeing a small bit of what he does behind the scenes, am always impressed at how the guy pulls it off twice a year. Of course Omar can’t do it himself and it’s only because of the efforts of all the local businesses, bands, artists, and the community in general coming together that makes these things so special. That’s also because, unlike the latter years of the wholly unrelated Westheimer Street Festival, this event isn’t just about attracting sponsors but about building and celebrating a community. That’s the way these things should be. So thanks everyone who helped and came out. I don’t know about you but I’m ready for another round next Spring.

Links:
Complete Sets on my Flickr.
* Westheimer Block Party (Link)
* Bonus: B L A C K I E & Cop Warmth’s Guerilla set (Link)

Oh and look:
Breakfast On Tour posted some pictures on their Flickr too (link)

Well here it is, Monday, and not only did I survive the Hootenanny (link) but I also survived the Houston Press Music Awards. Having these two things back to back, admittedly, is pretty rough. So Sunday, being a bit worse for wear, I stayed away from the free booze and stuck to the vitamin water. One thing I have to say about the HPMAs this year is that the venues seemed farther apart than in previous years. Whereas last year you could step out of the Rice Hotel and immediately walk across to see say Insect Warfare, this year you had to walk a few blocks to get between venues. That may not seem like a lot but, if you try to navigate at 8PM between say The Poor Dumb Bastards at Rocbar then run over to see Hearts of Animals at NOTSUOH then run down to see Buxton at Butterfly High, that’s quite a little run and you can forget catching any more than two songs per band. So, I wonder what’s at play here. Did a lot of the venues on Main close or did many of them just not want any of the riff-raff that attended last year? I don’t know. The second thing that I didn’t see as much of was the hustle and bustle of music fans on Main that I saw in previous HPMAs. Was it the heat, the distances between venues, or something else that made the streets seem relatively barren this year? Again, I’m not sure. Nevertheless, these issues aside, it was still a good time for all performers and attendees so why worry.

Me? I arrived in time to see The Wild Moccasins who somehow still had a ton of energy even after their Hootenanny set. What I love about the Wild Moccasins is that they just put it all out there – they go for it with every beat and note – and it makes for electrifying and fun shows. This show was no different- tops! 7 O’clock hour was a nutters triple shot dash. Over at Venue, The Tontons sounded simply massive. Kudos to the venue with it’s weird over the top stage and sound and the Tontons wore it well by completely commanding the stage. The Born Liars over at Butterfly High are somewhat analogous to The Wild Moccasins’ in terms of energy except that while the Moccasins have a fresh youthful energy, the Born Liars have the energy of drunken sailors who are on shore leave and don’t give a fuck who gets in the way. Then you’ve got The Wiggins (at Deans) whose personae is akin to that black sheep weirdo cool uncle in the family whom the older family members wince at in disdain publicly but secretly envy. One woman at the bar, who clearly didn’t know what to make of it, had the best fish out of water look of confuddlement I’d ever seen. Awesome!

The 8 O’clock hour was the afore mentioned race. Now, the reason I went out of my way to Rocbar was because of the Brian’s Johnston story. To paraphrase, Brian’s Johnson played Rocbar just after Whorehound. Toward the end of the set, the band played “Have a Drink on Me” and made a joke about free drinks at the bar. Then Jeff said “This is the first gay bar we’ve ever played – the Cockbar.” Well that didn’t endear them to the venue and the band was told “That’s it, you’re done!” Some person saying that they were the GM, expressing his displeasure at being called the Cockbar and a gay bar, told them that they were probably disqualified while big gorilla bouncers got in the bands’ face. No amount of “Hey, it’s a joke!” would suffice and the band was forced to leave via the back exit. Naturally, when some place called the Rocbar – whose idea of rock and roll is (well to borrow from a review in the Houston Press) as rebellious as Applebee’s – gets their panties in a wad it’s asking to get fucked with. And perhaps smelling blood in the water Byron of the Poor Dumb Bastards said “Ohhhh! Game On!” upon hearing the story! So, of course, we were hoping that Byron would pull this year’s Insect Warfare show and give this bourge venue a show they wouldn’t forget. As Steven Garcia put it, “If they don’t get shut down in five minutes, I’m gonna be so disappointed.” Of course, this raised the bar and while the Bastards did put on the punk rock side show we’ve all come to expect – which is always great – it never reached the level of challenging the Rocbar’s management and staff. Total psych out!

From there it was a quick run to Notsuoh to see Hearts of Animals (Thanks Dan Castillo for the suggested short cut through the car park). I only caught two songs but it was exactly what you’d expect from Mlee – the distorted guitar, the loud beats, and the nuanced vocals. In other words, worth the run that left me dripping in sweat. But from there it was off to see Buxton over at Butterfly High whose musicianship and emotive vocals are always a joy. One of the high points for me was when Sergio Trevino suddenly said, “Hey, here’s a little song about Transformers.” and then proceeded to sing this hilarious and sweet song about how much cooler the world would be if were were all Transformers. It had this off-the-cuff Daniel Johnson kind of innocence and, while obviously done with a sense of humor, it never stopped to the level of being smug or smarmy. Later Trevino told me (seeming somewhat embarrassed) “I wasn’t sure if that was going to work or not.” to which I replied, “It’s a song about Transformers! How could it not!” It’s always fun to see a band (especially one as impressive as Buxton) not worry about being the cool kid on the block and let their goofy side out. Probably my favorite small moment of the night.

Finally, the 9 O’clock hour came on and I was going to go for 4 bands in one hour. This started with Sharks and Sailors at Notsuoh which was, for me, hilarious. See, I kept wanting to leave but they would play another song that would leave me shouting “Gawdamnmit! Now I have to stay!” So one song turned to two, which turned to three and, by the third one, I knew to leave before the first note rang of the fourth one. Phil, Mike and Melissa are just unrivaled as a powerhouse and…well, you can read my description of a show at Rudyards in this August’s issue and you’ll get the idea. From there, it was off to see Bring Back the Guns next door at Dean’s but the door was a too crowded to make out much. Still, the band seemed to be doing what they do best – spazzing out. Well, Matt Brownlie was spazzing out. That’s not a put-down, that’s a compliment as, when Matt Brownlie spazzes, it’s high art. From there, it was off to see the Young Mammals which probably had the biggest crowd I’d seen all night. It was pretty hard to get up front but I eventually snaked my way up to see Iram playing like the brilliant drummer he is. I’m not sure if this or the upcoming Saturday Secret Show Fest is going to be his last show but I cannot stress enough how great a drummer he is and how the Mammals are a world class act. Again, most of Houston ignores bands like this while some writers complain about the state of the scene. To all you who will have missed the Young Mammals with Iram, all I can say “You missed out!” and you will get no sympathy from me. Go pay for your $8 beer for some big label crap at the Woodlands – you deserve it.

In that light, the night for me closed with the oddest pairing of the showcase – Indian Jewelry at the Hard Rock Cafe. You could just smell the incongruity of the band and the venue. Sitting eating their hamburgers were couples and families who seemed oblivious to the fact that Indian Jewelry was there playing a strobed-out set of brilliance. It was as if on stage stood a portal between two parallel universes – one strobed and noisy and the other milquetoast and orderly. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect analogy to Houston’s indifference to the amazing music that grows in its own backyard. Perfect!

(Thank you Chris Gray and the Houston press for the passes. Very Much Appreciated.)

And now, photos (more on my Flickr)

The Wild Moccasins still alive after Hootenanny!
“…And so the bouncer gets in our face like this!”
Trevi Biles of Whorehound gives his
account of Brian’s Johnson vs. The Rocbar.

The massive stage couldn’t
dwarf the Tontons’ talent.

The Born Liars – making sure that
Rock and Roll never gets respectable.

Death to poser humorless bars.
Jeff of Brian’s Johnston may have lost
the battle at the Rocbar but he left
with the best story of the evening.

Hearts of Animals
Can I have a more jarring juxtaposition of images?

Fuck yeah, Buxton!
You fly that Transformers flag with pride!

Sharks and Sailors -
Try to leave during one of their sets. I dare you!

Bring Back the Guns -
Ben Murphy (left) ponders
the awesomeness of Matt Brownlie’s ass shakin’!
Indian Jewelry playing in a parallel world
while the Hard Rock Cafe goes
about it’s business unawares.

The numbers are in and we can happily report that last night’s Hootenanny was a huge success! Now I’ll admit that my expectations were lower at the outset for this Hootenanny because, while the last Hootenanny tended to focus more on indie/punk bands (Pixes, The Clash) and some less often covered bands (Nomenasno*, Jawbox), this Hootenanny tended to swing more toward more common Rock radio fare. I’m not saying the music is bad but that somewhere in the suburbs any night is some hacky cover band doing “Do ya think I’m sexy” and that doesn’t exactly make me jump up and down. But here is where my fears we’re totally off the mark; whereas a cover/tribute band tries to emulate a band (generally amounting to nothing more than a living Jukebox) the bands at the Hootenanny already had a personal style going in which colored anything they played. So, instead of soulless covers, you had bands playing their hearts out in their own unique way, having fun, and being egged on by an audience that resembled more a house party posse that a concert crowd.

The Kimonos ripped through Blondie even if Gina Miller had a costume malfunction (don’t worry Gina I deleted the picture). Marshall Preddy of Custom Drinker took some of the most tired warhorses (Maggie May) and lame songs (Do Ya Think I’m Sexy) in the Rod Stewart catalog, stripped them apart, reworked it with his own unique vocal style, and spit out more life than much of the source martial ever seemed capable of carrying. And no, this wasn’t ironic hipster shit, Marshall was kicking it out with as much simple charm as John Sears did when he covered Sam Cooke at the first Hootenanny. That fucker even made that damn disco song work! What a dick! The Welfare Mothers took Johnny Cash and reworked into gritty, driving, and brilliant Garage rock which when you think about it is a perfect marriage. Again, no irony, no wink wink, just straight rock that shit out goodness! Buxton’s take on Bjork was just as inspired! By taking Bjork’s music and transferring it to the realm of Americana, the band made the music more organic than anything you could have expected and caused many a jaw to drop in amazement. At the last Hootenanny the Yong Mammals were the band that made the floor of the Backroom shake like an earthquake and this time it was the Wild Moccasins. Dressed in bright colors, awesome dresses, and radiating enough energy to solve our energy needs for the next millennium, the band tore through the B52’s and made it horribly and painfully fun! Paris Falls‘ take on Rush may not have had the precision of my favorite Ayn Rand loving Canadians but it was still fun! When the crowd engages in uncontrolled screaming demands for drum solos and YYZ, you know you are on fire! Tody Castillo’s take on Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers can be summed up with my screaming the Yeah Yeahs at the top of my lungs during their version of “The Waiting”! Fun Fun Fun! But here is where my evening kind of got muddled. I got caught up in conversation and missed my pole position for the American Sharks. At this time, I got a text to meet some friends at the Big Top. Perfect, I think to myself, I’ll catch a drink there then come back in 20 minutes and catch Flowers to Hide and Sharks & Sailors. Simple, right? Well, let’s just say that drunky drunk time and sober time aren’t exactly congruous and before I knew it what I thought was 20 minutes ended up being one hour and I raced back at 1:30 only to find that I just missed Sharks and Sailors as the Police! Weakness! Oh well, my apologies. Next Hootenanny I’m definitely not leaving the premises!

Anyhow, hope you guys made it out and had a blast. I know I sure did. Kudos to The Skyline Network’s ADR and Ben Murphy for putting it together and keeping it running like a well-oiled machine as well as Dunnock for a great mix. Well done guys. So when is Hootenanny III?

And now pictures (you can see the full photoset here on my Flickr)

The Kimonos as Blondie suffered a
costume malfunction during their set.
Custom Drinker as Rod Stewart
(Marshall Preddy of Bright Men of Learning)
inspired rampant Fritos munching!

I am totally jealous of Zahira’s dress! Awesomeness!

For those who complain about going up and down the
stairs at the Mink Backroom, I present for you the
most awesomest Hootenanny fan ever!**

* Thanks Danny for the correction.
** Starting next Hootenanny we will be giving out the Jacob Calle Memorial “Best Hootenanny Fan” award.

No Beer or Jameson fueled review this week folks. This week I’m keepin‘ it straight edge. But even if you weren’t abstaining, I hope you were able to make it out yesterday to the Block Party! I kicked around until 5pm and had to leave due to some other obligations but five hours was still quite the overdose of music. In those five hours I caught 20 acts and the stupid thing is, when I had to leave, I was bummed about having to miss Elaine Greer, The Papermoons, Oh Pioneers, Young Mammals, Rusted Shut and a whole host of other bands. Is that crazy? You’d think I’d have been sick of it all and ready to leave but the day was too beautiful and everywhere you looked you kept running into cool people and cool music. So here are some highlights:

The McKenzies drew me in with their upbeat drums, organ, and poppy melodies. For me, they were my happy pop “discovery” of the day complete with bubble machine. What can I say, I’m a sucker for the well executed pop song. Sadly, no releases yet but they say they are working on it. Highly recommended!

Defenestration Unit were missing a guitarist yet, no offense to Jim Otterson’s skills, you never missed him. The band filled in the gaps beautifully and Charlie Ebersbaker’s work on the Korg was a great addition to the band’s palate.

Come See My Dead Person were a complete surprise. I walked in and there was this big dude with a small-scale acoustic guitar, a mandolin player, and a violinist, atop the usual drums, bass, and guitar. The singer was singing like some gypsy Tom Waits while the whole place was whooping it up. It’s probably the only time I’ve seen a band have this infectious a “drag you in” live performance since the last time I saw the Sideshow Tramps.

Antarctica Starts Here played one of the best sets I saw on Saturday. Oh, this is a band that loves a wash of echo, reverb, and delay ON EVERYTHING. Add the shimmering guitars and their patient buildups leading to some gorgeous crescendos and I’m mainlining.

Sideshow Tramps make it look so easy! I caught a bit of their set and there is the drummer throwing his stick around like some Bennihanna chef, the washboard bassist is taking a solo to hoots and hollers from the audience, the cigar box guitarist is sashaying across the stage like he’s Jimi Page, and the singer is making you buy whatever they are selling. Now, that’s all fine and dandy but I’d gone to see Perseph One and that stage running late so I headed back to Avant Garden then, sure enough, when I get back, the goddamn stage is filled with people dancing and singing along! Goddamn it, I can’t leave those Sideshow Tramps alone for five minutes!

Basses Loaded also fall under the category of bands that make it look easy with their cool bass lines, clever arrangements, and unstoppable skills. Fine cool I can deal with that and the fact that the whole American Sharks thing is also kickin‘ but I didn’t know until later that day that 1/2 of the band was in The Fucking Transmissions. Fuck that! That’s Bullshit! Attention Basses Loaded members, you have exceeded your cool band quota! Cut that shit out!

Buxton is a band I’d been curious to hear live since hearing them on Myspace and they did not disappoint. There’s a lot to like about them, strong songs, engaging vocals etc. but for me the thing that put it over the top was the lead guitarist. Here was one of those bastards that had an insane control over what he was doing – it was enviable. He’d constantly punctuate the songs with these little guitar lines and phrasing that added texture, nuance, and weight to an already heady brew. One of the best performances of the day!

The Fucking Transmissions‘ set was hip hop at it’s most musically witty. Ben (he of too much talent and too many cool bands) played guitar and bass simultaneously while the vocalists played off each other like droll school kids trying to outdo each other. Jovial and sharp, The Fucking Transmissions should quiet any naysayers who claim Houston Hip Hop is all out of tricks.

The Wild Moccasins got everyone in a tizzy. John Sears turned to me and said “Oh Shit they’re the new De Schmog!” We’ll, maybe if De Schmog was a bit more rootsy but, yeah, in terms of being upbeat, fun, and getting the crowd all nutters, they had it in spades.

I closed it off with Austin’s Death Hell Battle Tank upstairs at Avant Garden. The singer (is this the dude from Fuck Emos by the way?) sure had sass. He got on the balcony and began, with his voice running through an octave divider, to taunt the people below to come upstairs all the while addressing the Houston crowd as “Hey Dallas” and telling them how much they sucked. The band – dressed in military headgear, fully in character, and with fog machine in hand – then charged through a really fucked-up version of The Immigrant Song. It was refreshing to see someone just be purely stupid and silly. Now I’ll grant you, the shtick may get old but it was worth rolling this one at least once.

The Punk’s Not Dead Award though for the day has to go to Cop Warmth and Blackie’s guerrilla performance outside the bike shop. If you missed it like I did don’t feel to bad; it was thrown together on a whim after the band’s performance at Numbers . Cop Warmth are like excitable chimps and – fuck stages and set times – it was time to have some fun and fling some poo: get the equipment, set up by the bike shop, play, make some noise with Blackie, and hope it’s all done before the cops shut you down. Just looking at these pictures by Brent (Link) and listening to what people said, Cop Warmth may just have topped everyone else and brought some much needed real chaos to an otherwise orderly event. Amen!

Here are some snapshots:

The Defenestration Unit’s Mike Switzer
has come to kick ass and chew bubblegum
and he’s all out of bubblegum!

Generation Landslide
plays an exclusive set for Indian Jewelry

Skyblue72

Team Death Trap

Come See My Dead Person rips up Mango’s
and that’s without their entire line-up.

Swans Will Attack

Antarctica Starts Here lay down shoegazer
shit that makes your hair stand on end!

News On the March

Sideshow Tramps!!
I left for five minutes.
When I get back everyone was on stage.
Typical!

Mistress Green

Ill Advisory – the one man supergroup!

Basses Loaded!
Asses Kicked!
Mission Accomplished!

Lovie

Buxton! Holy shit they are good!

The Fucking Transmissions dropping some cognitive
dissonance on that one dude who writes-off Houston as
“a talentless hip hop sewer of uncreative ass clowns “

The Wild Moccasins
wowing an enthusiastic crown outside Mango’s

Piano Vines you got that one dude dancin‘!!

Death Hell Battle Tank!
Because sometimes you need to get your stupid on!

Cop Warmth & Blackie
proof that punk’s not dead!

More:

Blog Reviews:

Breakfast On Tour review and pictures by Cereal (Link)

Handstamp (Chronicle) review and Pictures (Link), more pictures (Link), and Video (Link) by Sara Cress

Houston Calling Review By David Cobb (Link)

Houston Press review by Chris Gray (with link to a slide show Link)

Impose Magazine review and photos by David deLeon (Link)

Pictures:

My Pictures (Link)

Brent’s Pictures (Link)

Groovehouse’s Pictures (Link)

William Cordray’s Picture’s (Link)

Send me you Flickr and other related links so I can add them, eh?