My friend Captain Rumbelly was going through some serious changes. Recently he had gotten his third DUI on his Harley and had lost his driver's license for three years. He was a manic-depressive to begin with, but he was becoming more and more pensive and morose. Gone was the outgoing, fun-loving party animal - perhaps he simply removed the mask. In the last seven years he had lost his twenty-three-year-old son; lost three members of the now defunct Panhead Pirates; left his wife of twenty-four years; declared bankruptcy; did time in jail; sold his home in Colorado and moved to Santa Fe where he entered into a blue funk fueled by sex, drugs and alcohol. The latest DUI, apparently, was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Early one morning I was sipping coffee on my deck while admiring the breathtaking views of the San Juan Mountains when I heard the throaty sound of a Harley putting up the hill. In a few moments Rumbelly rumbled onto my property and joined me. It had been a while. I shook his hand and offered him some java. He cut to the quick suggesting that we write another album: tunes that accurately reflected his innermost feelings about his troubled life experiences. He insisted that the new album would not be bawdy and ribald like the last, and implied that, perhaps, the party was over.

I was beginning to worry about my old friend but agreed to help him write and produce these strange, heart-felt songs to the best of my meager abilities. Rumbelly allowed me to glimpse briefly into his troubled soul - and I must say that it was a phantasmagoria of melancholy madness! Within two hours we had written "Trial & Tribulation." That night we had a few drinks. My friend was telling me about a woman he had not seen in decades - his first love. Rumbelly looked at me through teary eyes and exclaimed, "It's been 10,000 nights without her!" I simply jotted down his forlorn ramblings and the following day turned them into a song.

Over the next two months Rumbelly stayed with me at my mountain home. Every night, all night long, we sat out on the deck drinking rum and watching shooting stars fall from the Milky Way - Colorado nights. One night he was gazing at the moon when he suddenly began whistling a beautiful, sad melody. It reverberated through the Ponderosa pines and seemed to harmonize with the crickets. He took a deep breath and exhaled: "The night air has the fragrance of Shalimar." He bowed his head and wept, recalling bittersweet memories. Shalimar is the purest of human pleasures - it is also his ex-wife's perfume.

Night after night he recalled intriguing stories. He told me about being in the Army; about serving time in a dungeon-like prison in Panama; about motorcycle road trips; crazy rum-soaked adventures from Hawaii to the Virgin Islands and south to Old Mexico; he longed for Dallas and the good old days of his topsy-turvy youth; he lamented his long-lost convicted brother; he mourned the passing of his son and his youngest brother; he also mourned his lost loves, missed opportunities and broken dreams. Some of the nights were almost unbearable for me. My friend was causing me to question my own sanity. I began to realize what Rumbelly was - and that Rumbelly was a part of me!

Rumbelly and I formed a band with Stephen Tholberg and John June in early 2004 and, with the help of many talented musicians, recorded this album. Rumbelly was a meticulous taskmaster in the studio, and a real terror. More than once his drug- and alcohol-induced rages threatened to shut down the whole project. The boys and I somehow endured his mood swings and dangerous temper tantrums. Luckily the Captain's irrepressible sense of humor always prevailed and saved the day just in the nick of time.

The album was near completion. Rumbelly was singing the last song - the title track. Those of us who were there that night where dumbfounded by his emotional rendering of this haunting piece of music. We sat in the dimly lit control room watching him through the glass while he sang. The song faded out and Rumbelly stood motionless in the soft colored light as the last notes evaporated into the atmosphere. We silently watched him seeming to slowly disappear along with the fading strains. Most of the songs on this CD represent some form of redemption (as if an apologetic Captain Rumbelly could actually be redeemed by our music), but the title track seems to be the acceptance of an inevitable retribution. It was pay-back time.

Rumbelly finished his drink, put on his black leather jacket and sunglasses, and walked through the control room without saying a word. He left the building and stumbled over to his old Harley, cranked it up and, without looking back, sped off into the empty darkness. That was the last time I saw my old friend. An hour later he deliberately rode off a cliff on Wolf Creek Pass to his death.

With heart and humor this collection of introspective songs tells the story of a troubled soul. The music has been called "Retro Rockin' Rhythm & Blues," but in the final analysis it is the individual listener who determines genre. It is eclectic without being schizophrenic and somewhat sophisticated without being esoteric. It weaves poignant lyrical refrains into a variety of rhythms and styles, but never belies the intent of the album or the integrity of the music. One does not merely listen to this music - one experiences it! It is a trip through the weird, inexplicable territories of the mind of a madman. But wait! All of us are capable of slipping into madness and you will find yourself empathizing.

Captain Rumbelly is gone but RUMBELLY, the band, will rock on. Welcome to the end!

A Case of Mistaken Identity

I had been fighting my alter ego for years. This despicable louse had an iron grip on my psyche and had led me down the road to ruin. I suspect that he was some bizarre manifestation of my Scottish/Viking heritage. Yep. He was a silver-tongued devil who could make insanity seem like a good idea.

Depression! It always started with depression. And then he flashed that maniacal smile. He yelled at me to come outside and play - in the traffic. He made suicidal urges the impetus for death defying games with body and soul. This insane pirate led me on midnight raiding parties to the hinterlands of hell and persuaded me to do things that can only be described as psychotic and masochistic. He was artfully belligerent but charming in a diabolical way. He was much more apathetic than evil, more cavalier than criminal. He was a part of me. He was Rumbelly. And by the way, he's not a real captain. I gave him that moniker to lend him a little class. It didn't work.

I never wanted to get all these tattoos. It was Rumbelly's idea. He was the one who insisted on riding Harleys years ago when I was content driving nondescript cars. He forced me into leather and made me wear steel-toed boots. I had to beg him for showers and haircuts. But once in a while, when the old fart wasn't looking, I'd slip into a suit and tie, and put on polished Gucci shoes. Rumbelly loved the smell of blood, sweat and beers. I wear Grey Flannel cologne and treat women with respect. Rumbelly put women on pedestals - that way he could look up their dresses. He raped them with his eyes but somehow managed not to get slapped. I take prescriptions for my depression; he took anything for everything. His big mouth got us both into a great deal of trouble but his penchant for carousing got us into even more.

A while back I lost a friend in a motorcycle crash, and our refinancing fell through. I was depressed more than usual. Capt. Rumbelly convinced me to get out and catch some bugs. We were riding with bros and making the best of a beautiful day in the mountains. Things were going great and I was feeling better. The next thing you know, Dumb-belly starts pushing me around and I lost my balance. I fell right off the wagon. Before you could say "what the hell" I found myself in the custody of the local constabulary - alone!

I pleaded with "Officer Friendly" to no avail. I tried to explain to him that he had the wrong man. The man he wanted had jumped off the Harley and ran away leaving me to take the blame for driving under the influence. I clarified to the trooper, with great sincerity, that my evil twin was the culprit and if he put out a psychological A.P.B. and looked into my troubled mind he could probably locate him. This had been a classic case of mistaken identity!

Now I had to convince the D.A. and the Judge and everybody in this stupid town that DC Duncan is an honorable dude and this Captain Rumbelly character is the real sicko and belongs in jail. Rumbelly never gave a shit. He liked hanging out with the dregs of society. He was happy as long as he had TV, three hot meals and a cot. I, on the other hand, can't stand incarceration and look horrible in orange! And I don't think it's fair that my license was revoked for something my alter ego did...again.

Well, perhaps it was my fault. Jayebird warned me about Rumbelly and told me time and time again to keep him under control. Well, I've been doing things without the Captain and it feels good not having him whispering in my ear every ten minutes. I hate to say it, but I think we're all better off since the son-of-a-bitch rode off a cliff!

The Beginning of the End

Archuleta County Sheriff's Department
Jail Booking Record

Arresting Officer: Corporal Randy Tyler
Arresting Agency: Colorado State Patrol
OCA#: 5A021301    GEO: 569311
Booking Officer:    DO Cat Tsosie
Booking Date: 8/17/02    Booking Time: 12:45 PM
Booking #: 432-2002    MNU#: 173492
Arrest Date 8/17/02    Arrest Time: 11:35 PM



Personal Information

Last Name: Duncan    First Name: D    Middle: C
AKA: Rumbelly
FBI #: X5107G8    SID #: 1632LB    SSN #: 135-79-1113
Race: White    Sex: Male    DOB: 3/2/51
Place of Birth: New Brighton    State: PA
Drivers License #: 10-987-6543    State: CO
State ID Card #: N/A    State: N/A

Current Address Information

P. O. Box: 2950    Physical Address: 452 Rampart Lane
Home Phone: 909-909-0909
City: Pagosa Springs    State: CO    ZIP Code: 81147

Features / Description

Height: 5'9"    Weight: 175    Eyes: Blue    Hair: Brown
Scars / Marks / Tattoos: Multiple large tattoos on arms and body

Employment Information

Employer: Self    Employer Phone:909-909-0909
Employer's Address: Pagosa Springs, CO 81147    Occupation: Musician

Marital Status / Spouse Information

Married: Yes    Last Name: Duncan    First Name: Jayebird

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All musical, editorial & visual content on rumbelly.com Copyright 2008 by DC Duncan