DUMAS DEMONS Cassette
Dumas is a sleepy town in the Texas panhandle that boasts just under 15,000 permanent residents and shares its Wikipedia disambiguation page with two other tiny hamlets. According to Hayden Pedigo, a 22-year-old experimental guitarist and resident of Amarillo (a bigger city located about 40 miles to the south), it's the stereotypical mid-America town that centers its identity around its high school sports. It only really fully sputters to life for a few hours each Friday night when their football stadium is bathed in fluorescent light. Dumas could be easy to ignore, but for Pedigo, there's more to it than meets the eye.
"Some small towns are boring and unremarkable," he says. "But Dumas isn't." There's a strange energy that orbits the city—hazy myths, and strange characters that Pedigo speaks about excitedly, but is nevertheless hesitant to relate in explicit detail because he'd rather not upset the small community of folks in the town where his wife was raised. But one of the town's more prominent legends is at the heart of Dumas Demons, his new drone project with Joe McMurray (who you may otherwise know as the drummer for the perennially grinning indie rocker Mac DeMarco). The Demons are the local football team, the pride and joy of the town, by Pedigo's accounts a local juggernaut in the 60s. But still, in the overtly religious northern reaches of Texas, locals took the name as a sort of curse, half-jokingly blaming any misfortune that befalls the town on its satanic mascot.