Sometimes a cowboy is just a man in a cowboy suit. 

One night I heard something gnawing in my house and although it scared me, I came to love the sound. A few nights later, I followed the sound to the kitchen and saw a little two-headed girl eating my cutting board. I introduced myself but one of her heads just spit a block of wood at my feet. I picked it up and saw that it was in the shape of an asterisk. I took the wooden asterisk to my room and went back to sleep. 
For the rest of the week each night when I slept, I heard the gnawings again. One night it was a popping sound and I went out to find that she had made a crescent moon out of my plastic tupperware. The next night I heard glass ringing and when I went to the kitchen, she was bouncing a ball that she had made out of a vase. She handed me the ball and I tried to bounce it but it shattered and one of her faces looked down while the other laughed. 
When I went to sleep that night with my plastic moon and the pieces of the ball she had made me, I wondered about her heads, if they shared the same mind. 
The next night, it was quiet so I went into the kitchen to look for the girl. Instead, I found a floating flame a foot above my kitchen table. I tried to blow it out but it remained. After many tries, I let out a tired laugh and it went out. I fell asleep at the kitchen table. 
When I woke up, I saw my linoleum floor. The kitchen table was no longer under my head. I leaned on thin air. And underneath the transparent table sat the two headed girl, smiling on both faces.

(Written by Pamela Des Barres)

In my all-encompassing adoration of music, I’ve always been a man’s lady for the most part, probably because I came of age during the transcendent 60s when madcap genius madmen were becoming myths overnight. A tumultuous decade when Dylan turned rock and roll into cuisine for deep thought and George Harrison taught us to turn on, tune in and wake up. A few femmes have banged my gong through the years – Janis, of course, Chrissie, Patty Griffin, Lucinda -- and recently I was introduced to another female whose praises I can gladly sing -- a self- aware, tousled platinum blond wildchild, Sie Sie Benhoff. She’s about to release her first full-length album, crammed with feisty fearless self-reflection, beaten up by love but unbroken, wanton, woozy hot-tempered tunes, recorded live in three days in Brooklyn, NY. A Texas transplant, now residing in east Hipsville, L.A. Sie Sie has been singing most of her life, started speaking in tongues at age two and stopped playing it safe a long time ago. “I just came out of the vagina singing,” Sie Sie tells me in her raspy drawl, “I never really had any choice in the matter. It’s my outlet, which often isn’t fun, but it has to come out some kind of way. I consider my songs redemption songs.” Raised all over the world with her missionary Pentecostal parents, Sie Sie sang the gospel until age 17 when she realized the people in West Africa didn’t need saving. “I closed my eyes and sang the universal word, Hallelujah for about fifteen minutes straight, and when I looked up I saw everyone in the tent with their faces on the ground. I had an awakening moment you could call a denouncement of my faith. They were fine before I got there! I was done.” Despite the promise of hellfire damnation, Sie Sie set her own course, dove
into the deep end for awhile, and is now releasing her anger and angst through her music. “I was too crazy. I sometimes say to myself, ‘OK bitch, cool. Take it easy!’ The first record I ever heard was Dylan’s Slow Train Coming. Just recently I realized how it really shaped me. I’ve been praying again, ‘please get me out of bed.’ The good news is now I feel I have a purpose. I know what is truly
important to me; I have an ability to provoke emotion, and helping
people feel is my main objective.” Veering from a throaty howl to little girl longing, Sie Sie pleads, demands, cajoles, and admits she’s “off her rocker,” with aching old soul aplomb and unfettered awareness. Americana/gospel/rock, whatever you decide to call her music, Sie Sie’s songs will crack your heart open wide and maybe even heal it. “I just never hold back,” Sie Sie says, “My boyfriends tell me to tone it down. ‘I like it when you’re a little more modest.’ Baby, that's not me. Sometimes I’m bleeding and I feel that thing – I’m bloodthirsty, so watch out. "

The world is full beautiful things
I'm just not one of them.

Musician up for anything. Trying to get the growing tunes out of my head and into your ears.

robbie is following