Friday was a long night. The Tennessee Theatre screened The Marx Brothers ' Duck Soup and Charlie Chaplin 's Modern Times . Over at the World Grotto, Lord T and Eloise were giving us a taste of aristocrunk, a blueblood tribute to all the beautiful sins of excess.
Over at the Pilot Light, it was Mitch Garza 's birthday, and The Nemoids , Gutlocker , The Cheat and Lobster Lobster Lobster were on hand to make sure that every brain was obliterated before the night was over. On the floor, a piece of notebook paper skidded about as the crowd pogoed in unison. It read: I hope this doesn't make me seem like a weirdo. Sorry I'm a drunkâ
â“ Chris Rusk plays in nine percent of the bands in America,â” The Cheat's own Harold Heffner yelled at the crowd. â“Chris Rusk, ladies and gentlemen. America's drummer.â” Every now and then, someone would yell, â“ Happy birthday, Mitch! â” followed by screams.
By the time Lobster 3 came to the stage, the details had faded into an impressionist painting, as the moment melted away, lost forever. Minds were blitzed in, and Garza's madman vox came out louder than ever, like a cultic priest, shouting a horrid kind of babble. And then, so goes the rumor, the band broke up.
Earlier, Rodney Fuson , the guy who can usually be found trying to sell his tattered flowers to barflies, rode his bike down Jackson Avenue, carrying a snare drum under his left arm. If it belonged to anyone, no one noticed, much less cared.
Ok, so maybe the Kuumba Festival didn't really go as planned. Ginuwine , the R&B stud with abs of steel, failed to show up for his performance on Market Square. Later, during a live performance by the legendary War at Chilhowee Park, KPD officers broke up the concert just after the second chorus of â“Why Can't We Be Friends.â”
â“They didn't start until 8:30, because of sound check problems,â” says Marti Keller , who had attended the event. The show was scheduled to begin at 7 p.m. â“The crowd rumbled very little and then dispersedâ. They let all this stuff happen at Sundown, and this was not that kind of crowd.â”
If you have an emusic account, then you really should go to the jazz section, and click on â“Top Albums,â” because the Knoxville Jazz Orchestra 's Blues Man From Memphis is their #1 album for the month of July. Two tracks, â“Blues for Brother Jeromeâ” and â“The Thing about George Coleman,â” are available for free download.
Local CD Review
It begins with a single note, stretching out for just under a minute. Will Fist , the tireless experimenter that he is, says that this album might be his greatest achievement, a slice of freeform cosmic elecro-grime, coupled with some of the loud hell-raising that we've come to expect from the boozy confines of the Whisk-Hutzel lab. â“Stamped in my Mind,â” a raucous offering of noise and screams, is the closest thing to classic Will Fist that we get on Trouts , but it's still spacier, more electronic and less earthy than the cathartic banshee moans that usually inflect Fist's dirty blues. But when the drones keep taking us to vast, unexplored sonic terrains, the trip is worthwhile, as we head deep into the subconscious of a countrified troubadour of the absurd. Trouts is an aural trip down the postmodern superhighway, struggling to stay on a straight path. It's not always a fun ride, but nothing's ever boring. Psychic Baos will join Woman and Black Sarah at the Pilot Light on Friday, July 13, at 10 p.m.
We hear that Fist's next release was captured inside a dumpster with a recorder that was running low on batteries. The sounds become increasingly elongated, churning into mechanistic wails, fading into nothing.
Local CD Review
One's A Long Time, Two's A Fly By
Sam Lewis stays true to his rural North Carolina, mill-working upbringing on his debut album, One's A Long Time, Two's A Fly By . With spare instrumentation and straightforward arrangements, Lewis rolls through 15 tracks of simple vocals, layered with nothing more than acoustic guitar and harmonica.
A thread of Piedmont blues winds its way through each song on the record, tying together the subtle shape-shifting of musical styles. â“Three roads to Gloryâ” offers a conversational '60s folk vibe, while â“You Can't Breathe, You Can't Shoutâ” sounds more like an unplugged indie rock heartbreak-ballad. And though the title track (and â“Virginia Windâ” for that matter) perfectly represents the lazy-day, Delta-meets-Appalachia tone of the album as a whole, it's the uptempo, Bob Dylan -cum- Keb' Mo ' â“Sam out of Bâ” that best demonstrates Lewis' flavor and style.
There's a lack of vocal polish throughout that adds warmth and character, rather than detracting from the performance, as though Lewis recorded everything live, maybe in a small dive or someone's home. You can judge for yourself this Saturday, July 14 at Patrick Sullivan's. Lewis' official CD release show begins there around 7 p.m. And though Lewis frequently plays with his full band, The Whipperwills , he'll most likely be flying solo for this show, which seems absolutely right. â" Kevin Crowe , Leah E. Willis
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