Lost in Paradise

Grandaddy is California nightmarin'

That's okay, just as long as he keeps touring, keeps making albums and keeps expressing his decay so eloquently. He hints, though, that he'll be giving all that up in the not too distant future as well:

"I think I want to become a park ranger. I would like to go to Big Sur, to go cross country skiing in Yosemite."

Grandaddy illustrates the evolution of the beard
Chugrad McAndrews
Grandaddy illustrates the evolution of the beard

We indie-rockers may seem an unthreatening bunch, Jason, but I'm warning you: If you quit music, watch your back. We'll watch you from afar until one day when, having backpacked high up into the mountains, you think you're alone with Mother Nature and your peaches-and-cream instant oatmeal. And then, POW!, out of nowhere we will jump, hundreds of us, armed with keyboards, guitars, amps and those cut-out paper birds you always have at your concerts, and we will make you play for us, right there in the snow, to help us go on, to help us feel okay about our own decay.

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