OLD CROW ADAMS I met Adams in Tijuana. He was half-passed out with a straw hat on that looked like it had been set on fire. I tripped over his boots, waking him. He grumbled something, like: Name's Old Crow, what the hell ya want boy? He had this old guitar from the 30's made out of a coffee table. He asked me if I wanted to hear a tune. I really didn't, but he looked like such a mess I thought it would make him feel better. He unleashed the fury. Drug delta, I've learned to call it. If you took morphine, Leadbelley, Captain Beefheart, and a hangover...put'em together, you got Old Crow Adams. He is a mescaline advocate, as opposed to formal education and he is often mistaken for a Vietnam vet. Believe me, this guy is a howler. I would bet he carries a guitar, a pistol, and a bottle of whiskey every place he goes. |