Oh, going back to the early days of (as then they was known) Shaggy Brook and the River Dog... staying out at the trashy grassy by the Trout Brook river, eatin more smoke than the sky- these were accomodatable times. The genesis of their music was there all right. Stage 2=some old women and a kegger an a quarter o strong drink took hold and threw them for a wild musical journey, which is just when Brendan had saved up enough wheat pennies and bicentennial quarters for a CVS tape recorder.
Now, after further years of guttersomersaulting and general squandering, technology and publicity have appeared and made operable through the guile (and resources) of a greasy persian cat with black glasses with whom David has taken residence.
For your lissnin pleasure...
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