Google’s archive of photographs from Life is an amazing thing.  It’s surpassed the Library of Congress as my go-to resource for highly-specific photo needs.  Today really required a long-haired freak sitting in a treehouse strumming on his acoustic.  The LoC just doesn’t have the search engine power to deliver that kind of image.  Thanks, Google and Life.  (Editor’s note: We’re assuming that we’re still in the “personal use” category on stuff like this; if not, we’ll post a copy of the letter that Google’s lawyers send to us.  Google Lawyers, if you’re reading, we intended no harm to you or Life by including the above picture of a smelly man.  Smelly Man, if that’s you up there, drop us a line; we’d love to hear what bank you’re working for now that you’ve sold out to the man.  All other readers, we’re going to need you as character witnesses at our inevitable copyright infringement trial.  Thanks for your early support!)

We needed the bearded hippie above because it’s Mammoth Jam Lazy Saturday here at Citizen Dick.  We’re also cutting back to two tracks today, because the ones we’ve included provide a solid half hour of grooves.  It’s a day for leaving over-produced, three minute indie pop gems on the shelf. We’ll have no hand claps, no farfisa, no dudes wearing rumpled suit coats and expensive jeans today,  just stretched out, head nod inducing guitar solos, far-out percussion, vague and/or explicit references to illicit substances and a big ol’ mess of patchouli oil.  In fact, I’m not even going to take a shower today.  You shouldn’t either.  Maybe do a few lunges first to get a good base layer of funk going before you hit play.

If you went to college in Ohio sometime from around 1993 to now, you’ve almost certainly seen ekoostik hookah at some point.  (This is probably true even if you went to college somewhere other than Ohio, but the probability probably decreases as you radiate away geographically from the Buckeye state.) My first hookah show was at Bowling Green’s Black Swamp Festival in 1996; we sprinted from the stage to the Mad Hatter record store to grab Dubbah Buddah as soon as the set was over.  In my tenure at Bowling Green, I saw hookah at Howard’s, the old Union and on the campus of the University of Toledo; I attended each show with classmates who would eventually be in my wedding. Mrs. Citizen and I put “Caribou” on our wedding cd.  “To Good Friends Past” is a lock song on the playlist for my funeral.  To say that hookah’s been important to me musically and emotionally for more than a decade is a wild understatement.  “Loner” is the song you’re hoping for them to launch into when you’re in the crowd; the number of things to shout at the top of your lungs always makes it a blast to hear live (“It ain’t beacuse I try,” “We all need a friend,” “If that’s the case than I won’t goooo” and so on).  The version below is going to knock your socks off, especially because it morphs into “Keeping Time” where you expect to hear Steve Sweeney solo.  (For those of you not familiar with the band, Sweeney is in the pantheon of soloists.  And I saw them play five shows over an eight month period in the early part of this century and he was wearing the same sweater at each gig.  That says something.)  (Editor’s note: There’s some not safe for work language in this track, as it includes something of a paean to a particular herb.  Just a heads up.  Probably not the best tune to crank at your desk in the office. And, obviously, this tune is about being a free spirt, not a pothead, don’t get it twisted.)

“Loner>Keepin’ Time> Loner” – ekoostik hookah – Eureka, California – 2007

This one requires far less discussion.  The Jacket.  “Steam Engine.”  Probably enough said.

“Steam Engine” – My Morning Jacket – Hunter, New York – 2006