From The Desk Of The Foxymorons: Blue Bell Ice Cream

David Dewese and Jerry James, the friends that make records as the Foxymorons, met at church camp when they were in high school. They discovered they had an affinity for noisy, primitive rock bands. Since they both played rudimentary guitar, they thought about starting a band. Eventually, the duo honed its chops and began writing and recording. Although they’d never played live, their debut album, Calcutta, got stellar reviews in Pitchfork and Paste. As soon as it was out, Dewese moved to Nashville to play in an alt-country band. James stayed in Texas. They’ve maintained a long-distance collaboration ever since. New LP Fake Yoga has elements drawn from country and pop music, including Beach Boys-flavored harmonies, but the album is dominated by their distorted, almost metallic guitar work. James and Dewese will be guest editing all week. Read our new feature on them.


Dewese: I forget, have y’all heard of Blue Bell Ice Cream? I mean I know it’s not a national brand, but for the people of Texas, it’s an omnipresent force and one of our finest creations. In a sea of grocery-store-freezer choices, Blue Bell is the prize catch every time. Other than a brief absence this year (that we won’t get into), Blue Bell is the one dessert that has consistently filled freezers for the past several decades across the lucky states within its distribution reach. It’s found in places as varied as freezer-burnt suburban ice boxes, grimy grade-school cafeterias, questionable gas station deep freezes, creepy ice-cream trucks and fancy-for-Texas restaurants. Still manufactured at the “Little Creamery” in Brenham, it’s the dessert generations always agree on. If you can ever get your hands on a half gallon of Homemade Vanilla or a Cookies & Cream Sandwich, jump at the opportunity and prepare to escape to your happy place.