As spud says, these dudes are “the homies.” For about a year, unbeknownst to the Mowglis and myself, we were neighbors. Like, I knew they were people, and I knew they lived down the block. I just didn’t know that they were The Mowglis and they didn’t know that I had a Jam Van.
They had a robot statue in their front yard made out of guitars and a small television. It was recently removed. Shame on the new tenant for that. When The Mowglis lived their they used to hang signs from a tree branch that jutted out onto Broadway Ave. and alerted folks to their backyard performances. So I’d stumbled upon parties at their pad, unfortunately never caught any music. I did however know a chick that fell off of their porch at one of the shindigs. Maybe they saw her fall, I dunno, she claimed she snuck out of there real quick-like and wasn’t seen. My dog, The RZA, played with their dog, Abby, in the street one day. He’s white and fluffy, she’s black and fluffy. On one of these fluff-head encounters guitarist Josh Hogan and I introduced ourselves. My take away from that meeting was that he was a nice dude, that’s it, never occurred that we’d be seeing eachother again in a parking lot about a year later and he’d be with seven of his friends, and I’d be with a few of mine, and we’d hang out, and I’d finally get to hear them play their “love rock.”
That’s all to say that they are indeed the homies. They kicked it again with us at Bonnaroo, even filmed another Jam Van session in between beers. That’s coming out tomorrow. For now we have this memory from the Roxy, the first time they ever met Spud. He’s now the hood’s biggest Mowglis fan, and they’re now touring the country relentlessly spreading the love. I just hope they still have time to make robot statues.