Mark Weber | Bygone Tumbleweeds, Tarnation Of Smoke | Zerx
This record is about memory. A train ran through my backyard in Cucamonga where I grew up. Songs like “Que Sera Sera,” “Pistol Packin Mama,” “Born To Lose,” “On Top of Old Smokey,” are some of the earliest songs I ever heard, as a baby, my grandfather romping around with his guitar. Continue reading
Mark Weber grew up in Cucamonga, California, where he threw rocks at freight trains and has the distinct memory of hearing Sam the Sham singing “Wholly Bully” off in the distance, a mile away, over the loudspeakers at Upland Memorial Park’s baseball field, on summer afternoons watching the orange-purple Martian sunsets so prevalent to his smog-encrusted homeland. His alma mater is San Berdoo County Jail where he matriculated in cold turkey. Adovada. He published his first poem when he was 15 and he’s 60 now, and still, he suspects that 90% of everything he’s ever wrote is junk. Meanwhile, he’s preparing himself psychically, mentally, spiritually, and physically, for The Immortal Poem to occur to him.