Red Hunter (Peter and the Wolf)’s latest album can only be purchased on his website. He manufactures every single copy himself, along with the artwork on the cover, and a typewritten short story is also enclosed with the CD. It tells how last year, completely broke, he went to a small town in Canada, squatted a room without electricity, slept in parks and wrote the lyrics of Ivory Palms . Red Hunter is a carefree hobo who goes with the wind and lives by his wits, if necessary. That afternoon, despite his nice shirt, his clean cut and smoked sunglasses, he just looked like a guy who takes it as it comes, who grins and bears it. A guy who likes drifting along, and who took us with him.
We were in Austin. It was hot and we were supposed to spend our time out at a boring festival. We were exhausted and weary, until an unexpected combination of events lead us to a carefree and joyful trip. We had promised to film Jared from Sparrow House again. We were hoping to record some videos with Red Hunter. David Fenech had given us Jad Fair’s contact information, a mythical and whimsical musician who lived on a ranch nearby. So, we managed to gather the three of them. Jared and Red borrowed a van from Voxtrot and came to pick us up. Vincent Moon, who felt there was a hint of gonzo to this scene, turned on his camera and never turned it off.
There was music all along. On the road to Jad’s, Jared drove, but he wanted to sing all the same. In the backseat, from time to time, Red went with the ballads. We didn’t really know where we were going. We didn’t know what we were going to do at Jad’s, how he would greet our arrival, or whether we would play music there. But no matter the surprise, the experience had already begun, and we felt like we had something. The music almost made us forget the damp heat of the moment. That was only the beginning…
Was Jad Fair going to eat us alive? Make us smoke some strange herbs? Was he living in a hovel, in a shack? Was he going to be nice, crazy, uncontrollable, pedantic…? We didn’t know what was going on–Jad Fair could be anything; he had done so many things with so many different musicians…
He had the look of a man who had stayed a child. His house had the feel of a circus, nicely decorated with a collection of metal robots and drawings everywhere. He wanted to show us everything, as if to repay us in kind, because we came to him in his Texan countryside.
Jad Fair is the nicest, most adorable musician we have ever met. We’ve forgotten everything, apart from the fact that we met a hearty and affectionate guy who offered us some lemonade and with whom with played a couple of strange songs. Red stroked dogs, Jared improvised on Jad’s trips. Sean from Daytrotter, who joined us then, looked like he quietly enjoyed this peaceful moment.
We’d been living outside of time for an hour. Then we left, so happy that we had also gone crazy.
This is nothing but plain enthusiasm, grinning oblivion, and wonderful songs from time to time on the way to a strange jungle and a climax les pieds dans l’eau .
Translated by Nora