Phantom Sam - Invidious

Phantom Sam

A thick mix of moves and grooves.
A strange funhouse of funky sounds.
Far beyond the limits of blues, tuned through a twilight zone of psychedelic unknowns…

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Phantom Sam

I hope you enjoy more apologies! 😉
No new episode this week, please stay tuned for next week as we resume as normal!
🙏🙏🙏

2 months ago | [YT] | 2

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Phantom Sam

Sorry folks! No reels or shorts this week, we gone tourin'! In a shabby attempt to make up for it, here's a kinda rad photo of us instead. Thank you for your understanding and please, stay tuned as we will resume regular scheduled programming in the coming week! 🙏

2 months ago | [YT] | 3

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Phantom Sam

-TWO WEEKS, THE FEAST OF A CONDUIT-
__________________________________________________________

Love and support
in the form of a double banana pancake
Tenacity and perseverance
lands the part of a plate of nachos

Soaked in sweat
the stench of the spittle of the road

Rolled in coffee grounds from the bottom of murky mugs
marked by the grime line of the countless times it'd been filled
set and left on the dash in the sun

Like a kind of candy apple, served raw
and only savored by the stomachs of music lovers and the walls of empty bars

Chewed by the lopsided jaw frenzied gnashing teeth
of pistons deprived of sleep and faulty ball joints

Spat in the parking lots of shops and rest stops
to shake under covers and furs, cold. Holding the pulsing beating bladder
God's punching bag.

Micro sleeping realities of street seers foreseeing futures
of drug addled Terre Haute woodworks through clouds of vapor.
Our leaning cradle of the contour bottle.

Slurped up the narrow straw of tolls, time frames, crazed opinions of flies
and fringe patrons.

Churned by the digestive tract of Chicago traffic,
a current of swimming schools of commuters, a dance with passing diesel trucks
and dodging of rippling Detroit pot holes and the pull of rumble strip riptides.

Coming up for air in record stores, finger flip therapy.
In from the rain to tell your worries to the crates.

Held together only by the harmonies of Heaven and Earth,
the witchy superstitions of repetitions in numbers, 1s, 3s, 5s, 6s, 9s.
The more music, the quieter my mind once I'm done.

Mashed through the gut, the human imodium producing groove to move magic
through cloud canals to touch stages and transmute strangers
to friends with familiar faces.

The duty of the conduit.
An instrument of the omnipotent.
The windpipe flawfully telephoning whispers of the universal word.

Finally expelled at the end of the line, bookended by the same song,
achieving new meanings between beginning and ending.
Laying aching bitter with the fading aftertaste of spiritual frontier.
Contemplating the pieces of you left to become plaque between the bleeding gums of your Golgotha.

Thoughts and reminders:
Tiger Jay, brings drinks to the thirsty
Kevin, everyone's sage oracle of the Springs
Nyttu Chongo, the spiritual cleanser
Randy, the nicest guy

A double banana pancake
A plate of tortilla chips sopped in the saturated fats of cheese product

The Universe is licking our bones.

Now,
A feast of our own.

What makes the beauty of the road,
is what's waiting for you at home.

TRUE HARMONY.

9 months ago | [YT] | 0

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Phantom Sam

Sorry folks! No new episode tomorrow!
We’ll be back next week to usher in a new era of the show with a slick setup and a fresh format!
Until then, stay tuned! 📺😵‍💫
(But more importantly, Stay groovy🤙)