#rodeo ruckus | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

probablyspooky · 1 year

Text

Message Received (Predator X Fem!Reader Guardians Of the Galaxy) Pt. 3

Tag list : @the-official-slasher-fucker

Last Next

Groot and Rocket began their descent into the night, Rocket grumbling about how tired he is. Walking sneakily down the halls into the bowels of the arena, they came across the large iron gate, behind it presumably the cells where they keep their prisoners, if you can even call them prisoners, they were really beginning to doubt The Grandmasters word. Before they approached the door, they stopped to take recon of it, as there were two large guards currently chatting about the next gladiator battle.

“Did you hear about the sold out show?” one asked the other,

“It’s terrible we have to work, I would have killed to see this fight, at night no less, the grandmaster may be a monster, but he’s honestly a business genius”

“Yeah a sold out night show. free snacks to the first 100 guests”

Groaning at this new info, Rocket pulled out his communicator and typed the info to Gamora and the others, as Groot innocently walked towards the gate and two guards.

“Oh what the hell”

Without missing a beat, Groot sprung out two vines, grabbing the legs of both guards and slamming them unconscious onto the ground.

“Groot?! What am i gonna do with you huh?” Rocket, groaned, grabbing the keys off one of the guards and unlocking the gate.

“I am Groot” said Groot

Entering the cell area, Rocket’s ears were greeting by the shouting and commotion that was coming from the male cells to the left. Striding over with a grin, as Rocket enjoys a good fight, he peered into the cell, watching a large figure beat the hell out of a much smaller fish looking alien.

The little creature begged for mercy, the large figure threw his body down on the ground and roared to the rest of the audience watching this display of dominance.

Rocket interrupted this show of brawns beating brains, taking his blaster and running it along the edges of the bars, causing the sound of metal to vibrate off the walls, gathering everyone's attention.

“Hey freaks! It’s one of you guys lucky day! I'm here to bust you out of here-”

Poor choice of words as almost everyone rushed to the front of the bars, grasping at the air in in front of rocket, begging to be let out.

“Woah woah woah! I’m only here for one of you rodeo clowns, so stand forward if you’re one of these guys” Rocket announced, showing his hologram of the clowns.

Like moths to a flame, an insect, a Yautja, a Xandarian, a Kronan, and a Kree walked to the front of the cell, the other four moving away from the beast that was causing a ruckus earlier.

“There you are xandar!” Rocket chuckled, unlocking the gate pointing his blaster at the rest to keep the back, “Your wife (y/n) called for us to come find you”

Once your name was spoken the yautja charged at the gate, pushing past Rocket down the hall.

“Not my problem right now”, he groaned, dragging the xandarian along with him filling him in on what’s going to happen to you soon if they don’t get you both off planet soon.

“My-my wife?” the xandarian whos name is Toto asked, following far, but close enough behind

“Yeah yeah, you’ll see your wife soon, let just-”, but before he could finish Gamora sent him a message to hurry back immediately.

Without hesitation Groot and Rocket began to run down the hall, Groot using his vines to grasp Toto's leg and drag him down the hall like a sack of flour.

A bit earlier before Rocket retrieved your ‘husband’, Gamora had tried to retrieve you herself, but discovered your cell empty. The shocking discovery made Gamora briefly panic, looking into the empty cell, she began to fear the worse and turned to return to the group, she was caught by the guards of the Grandmaster, finding herself captured and bound by cuffs.

“Where is the rest of your crew?” one of them demanded from her.

Gamora simply scoffed and refused to reply to the man who currently held her in cuffs. In a last ditch effort, the Guard called the rest of his men to return to their room, and grabbing Gamora’s communicator, messaged Rocket to come back to their room urgently. setting up an ambush for them.

But where were you currently?

Hours before Gamora could come to your rescue, the Grandmaster himself had come to your cell, and taken you to prepare for your debut.

You were dressed in a fine gown, like seafood on a platter, ready to be fed to the most hungry of beasts. You were currently chained to a large rock in the center of the grand arena, awaiting the champion to come take your life.

Once the grandmaster had Rocket, Groot, and Gamora, he had them cuffed in the viewing box. Toto was there as well, but he was not bound in chains.

“What gives?” Rocket struggled against his constraints

“Well you see my little furry monstrosity of a friend, Toto here is one of my favorite rodeo clowns, he would never betray me,” The Grandmaster chuckled, sipping on some of his expensive wine.

“Argh! What about your wife (y/n)?” Gamora shouted

“Uhm...I like men...” Toto said sheepishly, and like that the Grandmaster clapped his hands, and Toto was taken back to his cell.

“Rocket how could you get the wrong man?!” Gamora scolded, staring at Rocket and Groot with angry eyes

“Well I didn’t have much to go on...But I got a feeling her husband got a head start....”

“What does that even mean?” Gamora hissed

“I think he knows” Rocket smirked, looking at the Grandmaster

The Grandmaster groaned, knowing full well what this meant.

“Do you know how long? How long I looked for a beast like that? How hard it was to even capture him?” the Grandmaster uttered under his breath

The grandmaster recalled the events that led to your capture, it brought him a bit of joy recalling how he managed to get the both of you.

For days they tracked you two, they tracked and they tracked, unable to find you. Until one day you were tired, you were tired of running, you needed to rest. You didn't know why they kept sending men, they had lost so many already. You collapsed onto the cold ground, your husband, who you called Spike, due to the condition of his mandibles being spiked outward, turned to you, begging you to stand up, it wouldn’t be long until your ship, you could escape. His large rough hand, caressing your face gently, he could carry you if he wanted, but he was also exhausted. Standing to your feet again, you felt motivated to move, but then a grapple gun set off, encasing you in a net and dragging you away, your screaming going faint in the distance that was currently growing between you two.

Spike charged after you, finding you surrounded by the Grandmasters men, guns pinned to all sides of your body, and then the Grandmaster himself stepping out of the shadows.

“Well well well...we have a bit of a deal to make don’t me?” he said with that evil grin of his.

And here you were, trapped again, your life about to end. You began to sob.

But you weren’t gonna die, Drax and Quill were all that were left of the guardians, and perhaps your husband resented you. Hated you for getting him caught, for making a mockery of his race.

The lights came on in the arena, and they blinded your for a brief moment. Reopening your eyes, you looked up to see a full house, and that large blue hologram of the Grandmaster appear across all sides of the arena.

“Dearest Patrons! I hope you’ve stocked up on snacks and drinks, I’d like to show you my newest champion! I found him on the desert planet, and I think he’s a little hungry for blood. Our little bird (y/n) will do just nice”

With that the hologram disappeared, and the large gate across the way began to raise up, the champion slithered out with a hiss.

A large serpent like beast appeared, large fangs, at least 60 feet long, full of pure muscle. It hissed, and began to make it’s way towards you. You began to struggle against you constraints, as the beast who I will call snake for the sake of combat story writing began to coil back into a striking pose. You braced yourself for an impact that never came.

Instead you could hear the sounds of rockets, and blasters, as Quill and Drax charged from the stands into the arena, shooting blasters at snake to gather its attention away from you.

Quill took off his Star lord mask and shouted to Drax

“I’ve got this get her out of those binds!”

Drax shouted something about wanting to be in the fight as well, but grumbled and made his way over to you. Groaning about how he is so useful in combat and how it’s a waste of his time to be here.

Quill was quickly slapped back by Snakes tail, and the attention was back on the two of you, snakes end of his tail, gripping onto Drax, and slamming him back into Quill against the wall/

The monsters eyes turned back towards you, and began to coil up again to attack. He released his muscles to launch himself at you, but was blasted painfully in the face, this time purple blood was visible on the ground.

The crowd began to go rowdy as the action was kicking up, Quill throwing his mask on the ground and tuning to Drax.

“What was that?” he shouted, as there seemed to be no one else in the arena, but you knew. You began to cry happy tears, struggling against you restraints. Hearing that familiar clicking sound of your husbands mandibles, a figure began to appear through the air, as if he wasn’t there before. The Yautja stood tall, as he had run out of the cell to gather his equipment, his plasma rifle stood proud on his shoulder, still hissing the smoke that it produced from firing a single blast towards snake.

He quickly ran over to you, and using his strength, he ripped the chains off the rock wall restraining you. You pulled Spike into a hug, which he quickly reciprocated, but quickly throwing you down to the ground, as another thrust of the snakes tail tried to take a swipe at your heads. Quill now free, started firing at snake again, this time aiming at the wound upon his face. Drax quickly equipping his daggers ran up and charged at his face, using the rock wall that used to hold you as a boost, he managed to stab the side of snakes face, and using his weight he dragged the daggers down his neck, slicing a large chuck of his body off, the blood lost was too grand and snake fell to the ground dead.

The crowd began to cheer and throw things into the arena, Quill and Drax ran over to you and Spike.

“This guy huh?” Quill asked, “Any particular reason?”

“What do you mean by that?” you asked, holding onto Spikes arm, happy to have your mate back in your reach

“He mans that he is very ugly! I mean you’re very ugly as well, but he! He is a new level of hideous!” Drax laughed, and was quickly silenced by having his head driven to the ground by Spikes clawed hand.

Before anything else could happen, a loud crash could be heard from the Grandmasters viewing box, as he was thrown from the box. Gamora, Rocket and Groot, sliding down on vines.

Without a word the group and you began to make haste towards their ship. The Grandmaster was caught by one of his hologram drones, and soon enough sent drones to fire at their ship. But failed to stop you as you had managed to escape into the depths of space.

You couldn’t stop thanking Gamora for rescuing you and Spike.

“Please stop thanking me, it’s an honor to help people” she would reply, much to Quills annoyance as it was a group effort to get you out.

The trip back to the planet you called home was about a weeks time. Within that time Spike began to keep you close, as a new level of protection made itself known. On the first rest of the ship, the two of you were given your space in a guest room at the bottom of the ship.

You would sit on the edge of the bed and await to be scolded by him. Yet he never did, he would meet you at the edge and kneel down, and look up into your eyes, taking your hands into his, he would purr into your lap, content and happy that you were once his again. The second night, Drax demanded to learn some hand to hand fighting technique's from Spike, which were often met with Spike demolishing Drax, as he was over confident in his skills. The third night, the group had to make a stop at a small off course planet to fill up, the two of you caused a commotion as no one had seen a Yautja in their mists in centuries.

Returning to your shares room Spike grabbed your face, and placed his forehead against yours.

“Do you often fear my appearance?” he asked, his communicator buzzed along his chest.

“I do not, why do you ask?” you replied, cupping his face in your small hands, rubbing your thumbs across his jaws.

“You are...very appealing to me”

You smiled and placed a kiss on his forehead.

“You are very handsome to me”

#yautja x reader #yautja #predator #predator x reader

216 notes · View notes

damailbox · 7 months

Text

Spy Kids: Rodeo Ruckus

Disney Adventures, September 2002

#Disney Adventures #Spy Kids #comics #2002 #2000s #magazine #Lunchables #ad

13 notes · View notes

ao3feed-fengqing · 5 months

Text

The Gods' Suburbs The Ghost King's Garage

by goctyudicbdkvhb175749674 Thousands of years into the future, Xie Lian decides that he and San Lang should take a small, casual, 60-year vacation to the mortal realm. Ghost City is lovely, but it’s nice to interact with the living every now and again. However, settling into a quiet, well-off neighborhood in suburban Texas of all places doesn’t make life any less… chaotic. Feng Xin and Mu Qing are always fighting like an old married couple, Heaven continues fearing Xie Lian’s penchant for bad luck and misfortune, and somehow, even in the modern world, the occasional ghost still finds a way to cause a ruckus amongst the mortal realm. Join Xie Lian and Hua Cheng as they battle a ghost haunting a hotel piano, the homophobic Homeowner’s Association, and their own inner demons. Get your weed whackers and lawn chairs ready, because in the suburbs, somehow the biggest problem isn’t the Chupacabra who’s been draining the blood of goats before the Texas Livestock Show and Rodeo. Written by someone who is proudly, unabashedly, Texan. Words: 3411, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: 天官赐福 | Heaven Official's Blessing (Cartoon), 天官赐福 - 墨香铜臭 | Tiān Guān Cì Fú - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù, 天官赐福 | Heaven Official's Blessing (Webcomic) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Xiè Lián (Tiān Guān Cì Fú), Huā Chéng (Tiān Guān Cì Fú), Fēng Xìn (Tiān Guān Cì Fú), Mù Qíng (Tiān Guān Cì Fú), Ruòyé (Tiān Guān Cì Fú), È-Mìng (Tiān Guān Cì Fú), Líng Wén (Tiān Guān Cì Fú) Relationships: Huā Chéng/Xiè Lián (Tiān Guān Cì Fú), Fēng Xìn/Mù Qíng (Tiān Guān Cì Fú), Fēng Xìn & Mù Qíng (Tiān Guān Cì Fú), Líng Wén & Xiè Lián (Tiān Guān Cì Fú) Additional Tags: Huā Chéng and Xiè Lián Invented Love, Suburban Setting, Post-Canon, Fēng Xìn and Mù Qíng are Idiots in Love (Tiān Guān Cì Fú), Feng Xin and Mu Qing don't know the difference between fighting and flirting, No one likes the HOA, POV Outsider, (only sometimes), (it's mostly from the perspective of the tgcf characters), Ghosts are scary, But weed whackers are scarier, For some reason this takes place in TEXAS because why not via https://ift.tt/C45Zwa8

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #fengqing #tgcf #tian guan ci fu #feng xin #mu qing

5 notes · View notes

venustrape · 11 months

Text

@bruiseeasily | meme ↪ ❛ are you even listening to me? ❜ harvey @ lorelai

she can tell he's not used to being ignored. especially when he's trying to answer a question she asked, so the annoyance is fair game. in hindsight, staring into space while processing her stress & taking a call from sookie right in the middle of their talk might've not been the most polite thing to do, but considering how she left things back at the inn, there's no way she's ignoring a call from her chef. it's not like it's their first rodeo with a disruptive guest, but this one was particularly nasty. threatening to sue because she dared kick him out when he spent the whole night making a ruckus with no regard for the people he shared walls with ?! after already getting two warnings from the night manager ?! ludicrous. the stupidest thing she's ever heard ! harvey's just the only one who could possibly assure her as fast as possible that a case like that would never be in his favor... right ? " sweetie, calm down – just offer the guests breakfast on us, i'll be there soon. " word of mouth can either make or break a new business & she will smooth things over. she'll crack the charm up to a hundred & ten if need be. but meanwhile, she puts the phone away, letting out a heavy sigh & tucking dark strands of hair behind her ears before darting her attention back to him. " i'm not gonna lie to you, my brain was sort of talking over you while you were speaking & you don't know my brain, but it's very loud, so – you were saying. "

#bruiseeasily #bruiseeasily – harvey s.#( dialogue / lorelai gilmore )#she goes i need a professional to tell me i'm right like rn

3 notes · View notes

the-gershomite · 1 year

Photo

Looney Tunes #11 February 1995

“Rodeo Ruckus”

written by David Cody & Bobbi JG Weiss

art by George Wildman

inked by Scott McRae

letters by Tim Hawkins

colors by Dave Tanguay

#DC Comics #comics #Looney Tunes #Bugs Bunny #Yosemite Sam

6 notes · View notes

treestan · 1 year

Text

Twitter dying is a weird beast. On one hand, I have this great sentiment of good riddance, I’m glad we’re going to be finally free of that hell-scape platform that is entirely built on the back of chronically online people arguing with each other and just discourse for days. On the other hand I am seeing an increasingly large portion of twitter users making tumblr accounts, and posts on tumblr giving like, guides to twitter refugees, and it’s sort of like, is this not just the neon billboard pointing towards the peaceful, half-dead safe haven of tumblr becoming ransacked by problematic and argumentative twitter users stirring up drama and just trying to turn this place into Twitter 2.0 Tumblr feels like this, nature reserve that’s been hidden away from the world and yes, it has it’s own issues, we have never been a perfect platform, we have our own bunch of weirdos, strange culture, and are not immune to things like witch-hunting and starting drama entirely. Twitter on the other hand, started off as a state park, which just got increasingly more popular and overmarketed to the point where it’s a barren waste destroyed by consumerism and entitlement, no focus on preserving the nature. Weird analogy, but just stick with me. Maybe just some old nostalgic bones in me would rather see this place keep riding it’s last wispy breaths for another decade and then fall over, with the worst discourse being over which supernatural ship is the best, than have it be revived by a wave of twitter refugees only to crash and burn into the ground, choked by people who don’t harmlessly argue over fictional characters, but rather, make personal attacks at others and rile up others to burn them into the ground. A fresh wave of Artists would always be nice for this platform though, just as long as they can de-twitter-ify themselves. If you are a twitter refugee reading this, I’m going with a horse analogy for you; Hey! tumblr is an old girl, she’s been riding round this old part of the internet for a long time, but her prime is long since gone and I can think all her old and current riders would agree that she deserves to wander around the ranch, rest, relax, and enjoy these last few years in peace. She’s more than happy to see new faces, and you can have your turn taking a ride! but she can’t take the rodeo tricks and ruckus you’re used to, so keep things calm, and everyone can enjoy her :)

#tumblr #beginning of tumblr #Twitter #artists on tumblr #treestan #tumblr vs twitter #twitter refugees #melodramatic?#welcome back to tumblr #God I missed talking to myself in the tags #I really went hard on the analogies and metaphors huh

3 notes · View notes

bdkrp · 1 year

Text

→ @a-hazbin-spider ; continued:

“Yeh, you say that, they all do. But if you start grindin’? Gropin’, any a’ that? You’re getting charged, understand me?” Was it just the situation here or did he sound a little less playful at the end there. Definitely not his first rodeo here. He groans, his own head turning the opposite way just to rest itself. Wonderful. He had better shit to do. Kinda. At least it wasn’t dusty in here. Niffty cleaned every inch of this fuckin hotel. “Aside from me makin’ a ruckus- I don’t s’pose you got any ideas-” Eep..! Did- Angel just try to back up? Those hands are pretty innocent just settling there. He won’t admit to startling from it either. No dice.

A part of them wanted to protest, to argue about the thoughts he had been sharing. And they almost did, but were caught off guard by the reaction they got out of him.

They slowly turned their head back to face him again. While they still struggled to figure out what to do with their hands, they figured a few more words were in order.

“... Hey, I uh...” A small noise before continuing. “I can't say I know what kinda, uh, experiences you've had with your job... or otherwise, I guess...? But I really don't intend on doing anything I'm not supposed to. We don't have to make... this,” A vague gesture, “into anything.”

As much as the proximity was getting to them a little bit. It was starting to feel almost intimate. Not that they would admit to that.

#♡✗ ic #f:😈#a-hazbin-spider #I care him..

1 note · View note

swampythesweetsketch · 1 year

Text

same scar!!!

#rodeo ruckus #rosita desire #kai amai #ninjago #fan season au

24 notes · View notes

krabkrab-wontshutup · 2 years

Text

@swampythesweetsketch i’m drawing jay and zane should i give jay horse ears or human ears

#i need to know #rodeo ruckus #cowboy zane #centaur jay

9 notes · View notes

futuristic-coffinnails-x · 19 hours

Text

Git yer gator-skinned boots on, brother, cuz this here's a tale wilder than a rabid raccoon stealin' yer moonshine! Deep beneath the ice of Lake Minnetonka, where the catfish whisper secrets and the Spanish moss hangs low, sumthin' wicked was brewin'. It all started with Aggie, a skater with moves smoother than a greased pig on ice, seein' a monstrous tentacle yank a fisherman outta the water faster than a greased watermelon rollin' downhill. Panic spread like kudzu across a field, and Lefty Johnson, the hockey hero who could slap-shot a puck clear outta the state, scoffed at "Sewer Frogs." "Just another tall tale spun by swamp folk," he reckoned. But when his prized lutefisk, bartered from a shady character with a pet gator, turned into a nest of pulsatin' eggs, his disbelief melted faster than a snowman in July.

Enter Doc Bjornquist, the town's resident mad scientist, his shack reekin' of fermented cabbage and forgotten lore. He saw an opportunity, not just for science, but for a B-movie bash that would make yer eyeballs do the hokey pokey! Lured by lutefisk and cinematic fame, he joined Aggie and Lefty, their weapons decked out with camo duct tape and monster truck bumper stickers.

Descent into the fetid sewers was like steppin' into a fever dream. Glowing frogs, croakin' like a possum choir on helium, pulsed with the fury of a swamp witch scorned. Their slimy bodies oozed like a forgotten barrel of moonshine, a symphony of environmental neglect echoin' through the tunnels.

The battle erupted like a monster truck rally gone haywire! Aggie, swift as a runaway pick-up truck, weaved through the amphibian horde, leavin' trails of green slime and rebel yells in her wake. Lefty, channelin' the spirit of a gator wrestler, smashed frogs with his stick, sendin' them flyin' like oversized lily pads. Doc Bjornquist, fueled by lutefisk and the thrill of the bizarre, unleashed a concoction of glowin' algae mixed with leftover possum stew (waste not, want not!), drawin' the frogs into a swirlin' vortex of greasy, glow-in-the-dark chaos.

The final showdown went down on the frozen lake, under the watchful gaze of the Ice Maiden, lookin' like a cross between a swamp queen and a Miss Rodeo contestant. The frogs, mesmerized by the greasy light, converged into a giant, wrigglin' mass that resembled a mutated catfish. Aggie, channelin' the spirit of a mischievous swamp sprite, led them on a dizzying chase across the ice, her moves blurrin' faster than a squirrel on caffeine. Lefty, guided by the Ice Maiden's cryptic whispers (delivered in the drawl of a seasoned moonshiner), hammered cracks beneath the surface with a rusty crowbar, sendin' the frogs plummetin' into the icy depths, their croaks fadin' into gurgles that sounded suspiciously like banjo twangs.

Sleepy Hollow emerged victorious, smellin' faintly of lutefisk and burnt rubber, but holdin' their heads high. Doc Bjornquist, his film footage enough to fuel a marathon monster movie marathon, promised to clean up the sewers (mostly for the fame). Lefty, forever scarred by the lutefisk (but strangely enough, not the gator bartering), took up environmental activism, his hockey stick adorned with a giant green frog plushie - a constant reminder of his bizarre battle.

And Aggie, her skating routines forever infused with the memory of the Sewer Frog Swarm, became a local legend. Tourists flocked to Sleepy Hollow to witness the "Swamp Stomp," a mesmerizing spectacle of light and ice that sent shivers down spines and left everyone wonderin' if the rumors of glowin' frogs lurkin' beneath the surface were true.

Of course, the legend got embellished over time, like a tall tale growin' taller than a kudzu vine. The tentacle, for instance, was later attributed to a particularly large catfish with a taste for forgetful fishermen. And the Sewer Frogs themselves, while real, were more like a ruckus at a honky-tonk than nightmare monsters, their glow just a harmless algae thing and their "war cries" more like excited chirps about the abundance of leftover possum scraps.

But that didn't stop the legend from bein' wilder than a gator in a mosh pit! It whispered tales of brave heroes, funky frog monsters, and a town that faced its swampy underbelly and emerged stronger, even if they still smelled a bit like possum stew and regret. It became a reminder that courage, fueled by lutefisk and questionable choices, could blossom even in the most unexpected swamps. And maybe, somewhere in the depths, a few glowin' frogs still

croaked their swamp-stompin' tunes, a testament to the fact that even the most outrageous legends often have a hilarious, slimy core. Years later, as Aggie laced up her skates for another performance of the "Swamp Stomp," the Spanish moss swayin' above her like a giant green beard, a tourist leaned in, their eyes wide as a possum caught in the headlights. "Do you think the frogs are real?" they whispered, the Spanish moss rustlin' eerily in the breeze.

Aggie grinned, a twinkle in her eyes like fireflies dancin' on a moonshine still. "Real enough to remind us that sometimes, the monsters we face are just reflections of our own polluted creeks," she replied, her voice laced with a drawl sweeter than pecan pie. "Besides, honey, they make for one heck of a show, wouldn't you say?"

And with that, she glided onto the ice, her blades carvin' intricate patterns that echoed the legend of the Sewer Frog Swarm. The crowd watched, mesmerized, unsure if they were witnessin' a chillin' dance or a darkly comic spectacle. But one thing was clear: the memory of the bizarre battle, with its stench of possum stew and its whispers of environmental responsibility, would forever linger in the heart of Sleepy Hollow, a reminder that even the most absurd horrors can sometimes yield unexpected heroes and even stranger laughs.

And as the last notes of the banjo-twangin' gurgles faded away, a lone firefly danced above the ice, a silent promise that the legend, with all its twists and turns, would continue to be told, keepin' the memory of the swamp, the frogs, and the brave hearts who faced them alive, forever etched in the folklore of Sleepy Hollow. And who knows, maybe someday, another hero with a heart full of gumption and a stomach full of lutefisk would rise up to face whatever new critter crawled outta the depths, keepin' the legend of Sleepy Hollow wild and weird for generations to come. Now that's a story worth tellin', brother!

PLOT GENERATED BY AI

0 notes

dustedmagazine · 8 days

Text

Lynn Drury — High Tide (Nolamericana)

Lynn Drury is a rodeo rider turned blues woman from New Orleans possessed of a sturdy belt, a crack band and a sophisticated turn of phrase. High Tide, her 10th full length, kicks up a rowdy ruckus with a lot of heart, but never really breaks out of the mold.

Drury is brash and confident in the roadhouse piano banger “Great Divide.” Against a backdrop of shuddering bent notes and rampaging twang, she plants herself firmly at the foreground of the sonic mix. “I’m just trying to stay centered in the great divide,” she wails, cracking wise about polarization. The sound is classic country rock; the lyrics are a little more evolved.

You don’t last long as a bad musician in New Orleans, so it’s no surprise that Drury’s supporting cast is uniformly excellent. Doug Belote, who has played with Eric Clapton and Dr. John, holds down the rhythm section, alongside Rene Coman of the Iguanas. Papa Mali, a New Orleans mainstay and Ruthie Foster producer, plays smart, unshowy blues guitar. Amid all this proficiency, Drury does just fine, with a convincing growl, a huge belt and an emotionally charged mid-range.

And yet, despite the demonstrable ability of everyone involved, the songs seem a little generic. “Blue” with its slow-handed guitar riff, its ruminative pace, its long thoughtful arcs of slide is all pretty enough, a lament about a man who isn’t around as much as everyone would like. There’s a nice curve up to the chorus, a subtle shift in momentum, but the song ultimately never takes off. Or take the vamping “Fade,” with its shape shifting rock guitar flares and Drury’s world weary delivery. It’s the kind of song that Lucinda Williams would light a fire under; here it only smolders a little.

The material gets slower and dreamier as the album goes on, with some of the strongest songs near the end. “Here Comes the Waiting” slouches gracefully through the embers of a botched romance (“Now you’ve gone and ruined a perfectly good friendship.”), stares into space disconsolately, then picks up again in a un deux trois count that almost audibly shakes it off. “When It All Comes Down” is even better, with its surfy low notes and shuffling, skittering Latin rhythm. It’s sleek and fluid and embellished with soft backing vocals, but also unflinching. It’s like looking hard into the mirror at three in the morning and refusing to back down. More of this, less of the faux hearty country rock, and we’ve got something.

Jennifer Kelly

#lynn drury #high tide #nolamericana #jennifer kelly #albumreview #dusted magazine #country #blues #rock #twang #new orleans

0 notes