Charles Ashley Moore
Bender of Minds, Rules, and Assorted Pipe Cleaners
I’m a revolutionary. An anarchist. And I don’t care for most things mainstream, though I’m not necessarily against the whole flow. Take what you need and leave the rest seems a good maxim to me.
I became the founder of Dirt Road Rock way back in the 20th century while trudging barefoot in overalls down a red dirt road in Washington County, Georgia. Prior to that, I established Bag Music on the West Coast. It's a derivative of John and Yoko’s Bagism, the main difference being that, instead of wearing bags to stress the true value of a message over the perceived value of the messenger, Baggies stuff others into bags with the intent of shutting them up and controlling the narrative.
Obviously, the Baggy methodology goes back further than John and Yoko, the bagging of people being the preferred policy of every government in the history of the world. The Baggist musical approach differs from Statism, however, in that Baggies only bag musicians from rival bands on a bill with us and release them alive after we've rocked the house all night. The State, by contrast, prefers indiscriminately bagging up corpses for eternity. In any case, this was before anyone knew who Weezer was. So it’s quite plausible that we accidentally massacred their name on a flier for a Bag Dance. Accidental or not, nobody can prove who stuffed them into bags that night, and we refuse to accept responsibility for the acts of our fans. The shame associated with having been bagged is usually sufficient to silence Bagamuffins on the topic of their bagging. So it's doubtful anyone has heard of The Bagging of Weezer Vance. If anyone has, my unequivocal opinion is that it’s a myth.
In between the establishment of Bag Music and the founding of Dirt Road Rock, I played Blues guitar with Smoke in San Francisco and Reggae bass with The Good Herbs in Athens, GA. I still play Reggae bass with those cats on occasion, though we presently sail under the banner of E.R.E. (Eclectic Roots Ensemble). Here’s a link to hear and download a live Reggae set for free: E.R.E. live /December 20th, 2019 / The Masquerade, Atlanta, GA.
I also toured the Southeast with a “Jam Band” from Athens, GA called Tibbetts Street. We were known mostly for burning down vast forests of glaucoma medication, swimming up wide rivers of toadstool tea, and falling over grease vats with Colonel Bruce Hampton when the moon wasn’t bright enough to light the alley behind a juke. We disbanded after a Savannah Country Club member in deceitful pantaloons arrested the development of my metaphorical golf game with a proverbial six iron. My handicap was judged unacceptably high, so I was paired with a professional and compelled to sing “In the Jailhouse Now.”
With that dismal performance behind me, I quit touring and went back to school, declining a partial scholarship to the Berserklee Collage of Muzak in favor of a full ride studying upright bass with a Berklee alum. "Frankly, I could’ve gone either way on that decision, but a thorough review of U.S. weather patterns swung me towards North Florida." The best part was a humbling performance with Michael Brecker wherein the great wizard convincingly argued for the existence of a terrifying chasm between those merely interested in playing an instrument and those intent on mastery.
Later, after a Tibbetts Street reunion turned sour, I funked it up with Sammy Suspect until Sammy got distracted by a plate of churrasco. Next, I got distracted by a deviled egg in blue cheese dressing, then I turned sour. But I carved a cheerful canyon through that murky forest by leaning on my trusty axe (playing bass and guitar in a Country band, doing solo acoustic shows, and releasing a record or two). So far, at least, I’ve survived the perils of that forest in this way. Survival is a constant struggle though. So I’m here for now, trudging along, and I'm still making music, which I hope you enjoy hearing as much as I enjoy playing. Everything here's for free, which is how it comes to me, so please take something with you when you go. If you feel like bartering, kindly send me a note from the "Contact" page. I love pen pals. I'm glad you dropped by, and I hope you'll stay in touch. Love, freedom, solidarity...