The instant I was approached by the band to write the liner notes for their forth coming album Rock On Old Man, my memory reeled to times past; unawarea, finding myself thirty years younger, watching for the first time the latest rendition of the band Damion. Inhaling the sweet azure of care free youth I smiled once again in recollection at the bands name with it's mercuryesque reflection. Inspiration garnered from the 1925 novel of German author Hermann Hesse's tale of the adolescent Sinclair, whose desent from innocence and salvation into the hands of the irreverent Max Demian narrowly escapes the labyrinth of a world too intricate for passage alone. Hermann Hesse the embodiment of intellect, perched dangerously on the brink of insanity and extinction, paralleling the destination of the band. In an age of rock and roll the trio danced on that razor edge between stardom and oblivion, by choice against the mainstream, defying comparison to air play. Anchored by the solid rhythm section of Dunham and Seymour, the band slid through it's soulful repertoire as fleeting and elusive as fame itself. Layer upon layer, the savage guitar icing of Drendall completed the musical stew. I heard from time to time of the path followed by these wandering minstrals. South to the island sanctuary of Key West; mile zero, where it remains unclear whether the road has ended, or simply not yet begun. North to Colorado with it's ancient mining towns tucked into depressions older than time. I recall my pilgrimage retracing their path from the Snake River Saloon up the winding passage to Montezuma, lost and off the beaten track. Ten years the band had been gone. Ten years later I could still sense the smooth back beat, hear the moan and swell of the foot pedal. Ten years after their departure, the locals evoke the music as though it still played from the radio of some voodoo cadillac. With time, the fires that drive did falter and re-route, embers eventually cooled and the dream became a deep slumber with the bourgeois they so feared. So imagine the surprise when I opened my mailbox one day to find a new recording by the band, where with wonderment I listened for the first time and mused softly, " same old Damion." Then upon second and third listen exclaimed with such delight, Yeah, same old Damion!! The road resumes. Uncle Meat Some where in Texas Some time in 2004