My Friends

Arrow Up

Arrow Up
Arrow Down
,
  • Fri
    18
  • Sat
    19
  • Sun
    20
  • Mon
    21
  • Tue
    22
  • Wed
    23
  • Thu
    24
World According To... Parker & the Numberman Apr 18, 2014 A Friday night series where Finest City Improv invites a special guest, or guests, to tell real-life stories that FCI's best improvisers then use to create comedic sketches. This week's special guests are local hip-hop act Parker & the Numberman. 57 other events on Friday, April 18
 
Canvassed | Art & culture
A tale of near-death, bloody steaks and unprecedented opulence
News
Why the city can’t maintain enough emergency trucks
Film
Documentary about ill-fated project leads our rundown of movies screening around town
News
Meet ‘Jackie,’ one of the many faces of sex-trafficking
Arts & Culture feature
What could’ve been, what could be and what’s actually happening with the embattled 2015 celebration

 

 
Log in to use your Facebook account with
San Diego CityBeat

Login With Facebook Account

Recent Activity on San Diego CityBeat
 
Home / Articles / Music / View from a Stool /  A poetry reading with Crocodiles
. . . .
Wednesday, Apr 11, 2012

A poetry reading with Crocodiles

Three of the band's members share their verse

By Andrew Scoggins

With his black jacket, greased-back hair and trademark sunglasses hanging from the collar of a red Hawaiian shirt, Crocodiles singer Brandon Welchez looked like a hipster rock star at Ducky Waddle’s Emporium last Wednesday. But he didn’t use a mic to rock out. Instead, he read poetry from a few loose scraps of paper that he held in his shaking hands.

That night, he and two other members of the band—guitarist Charles Rowell and bassist Marco Gonzalez—were the special guests at Poetry Ruckus, the Encinitas bookstore’s monthly reading. They read selections from Machine Gun Brothers, a book of poetry on which they’ve collaborated.

There were only about 15 people at the reading, and performers included quirky local poets. Welchez, Rowell and Gonzalez blended personal experience with an Americana aesthetic. In “Iceland,” Welchez told of a racist encounter with a “lunatic snowman.” Rowell went the Hunter S. Thompson route, describing a romp through the desert with “Chico” the heroin addict.

Their poetry could be surprisingly intimate. At one point, Welchez chanted an ode to “anyone with relationship problems.” In the poem, he said he’d “roast like a pig under switchblade sunshine and coat [himself ] in the holy stink of ass,” “sob like a lonely architect” and “stand on the edge of the Earth, trying to find a way to love you again.” Gonzalez made himself vulnerable with lines like, “Dancing on the streets of heaven when I’m with you,” and, “When it’s time to make love, I’m afraid I’m not doing it right.”

With their new album, Endless Flowers, due out via Frenchkiss Records on June 5, Crocodiles have gotten big. But this night wasn’t about fame. There was no monetary gain, since they didn’t even have copies of their book to sell. They were just three musicians showing off what they love to do in their free time.




 
 
 
 
 
 
Close
Close
Close