HA-HA by Mates of States

The Mates of States concert transpired at the canopy club in Champaign in late autumn of that year and Joe and I would keep going outside in his Mazda to get high and then come back in and play pool and drink and wait for the concert to begin. Joe had introduced me to Mates of States three summers earlier while we were driving through the neon spines of corn abutting the highways of central Iowa searching for Dave Thompson in Des Moines, Joe placing a downloaded copy of OUR CONSTANT CONCERN into the gaping jaws of the CD player belting out the rhetorical chorus of "I know, And said forget it, " answering the clanging semi-nasal query of "Who's gonna start the wave," Joe raising his hand next to me as if in class answering the bands rhetorical keen of "I will start the wave!!!!" as the clamor of keyboard and drums continued to do nuptial battle as we drove on, smoking, laughing, stopping in Iowa City, heading out west, loosing ourselves in the vibrato and vortex of high pitched almost circus like chords.

Joe and I would later see them in concert six months later at the Metro in Chicago. It was late January and cold and we ran down the frost coated avenue of Clark st in Wriglyville wearing just our club gear since we knew we'd lose our coats if we brought them inside the bar with us. We drank Goose island and danced with beautiful anemic gypsy haired girls from the North Shore as the States broke into their picaresque melodies of loss sounding as if they were lodged inside a pinball machine with a couple violently questioning their nuptial vows as their voices echoed ill-timed cymbals in a commitment ceremony.

Now in Champaign, they were the main act and they took the stage, a duet of one, a yin-yang carousel of consciousness, the soprano and tenor of genitals welded into androgynous chorus, the pangs of love and the endearing rhythm of all time.

After all, this is the blood that we're made from, so go on and tell it like a chronicle.