Cripsy Duck - 10.4.00 - Kings of the Hill

And then, on the eighth day, much to the suprise of Heaven's assembly, the Lord spake thus:
"Let there be a rock club. A really bichin' one."
And it was so.

I, too, wax fondly about the days when a dingy little rock hole called the Mineshaft (dis)graced the basement space on W. Main St. now occupied by the Craft House-- a fitting worm's nest compliment to Trax's dark cavern just down the block. Meanwhile, downtown's underground grooverati hung out in a batcave-style rock hall annexed to the C&O restaraunt (now the Discovery museum). The city's central arteries had alot going on back then, but it's been a long time gone. You can imagine how my interest piqued when I heard of the opening of the Starr Hill Music Hall, a deluxe mid-size musitorium whipped up by several of the Red Light partners in an attempt to bring the spirit of serious clubbing back to Main Street. (So crazy, it just might work.)

Straight up, this place rocks. It's well ventilated, spacious and very pretty, with wood floors, hand wrought lamps, railings and fixtures, and a nice vibe already intact. The sound system is the most comprehensive (and expensive) permanent club installation in town-- something befitting a fulltime touring act. And the Starr Hill Brewery, just downstairs, brews the beer. Gotta love that. (Keep those Pale Ales coming.)

The only negative that I can come up with is that, due to the stage's placement on the front wall of the building, "backstage," is a long walk through a crowd of fans-- rendering the "duck out for a minute while the audience cheers" encore maneuver impossible. I'm sure that bands will quickly adjust, however, since nobody will want to miss rocking this plush showcase space. Hip hip hooray!

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"There are grooves and then there are grooves...."

9/28/00 Project Logic at the Starr Hill Music Hall
Somebody slap me. The first set was tight but the party had not yet begun to bump, commenced, as it had been, at the awkward hour of 9:30. We all stood around in awe of DJ Logic's funky crew, but despite a few dancers, the place was looking a little like a high school function.

Quite Logical
By the second set the listeners had managed to get a couple more beers in them and thus could better "get with" the turntable-fronted jazz/funk experiment going deep right before their noses. The crowd smelled something nasty and began to bubble and morph into a happy soup of funk.

DJ Logic, a working partner of acid jazz frontiersmen Medeski, Martin and Wood, is successfully elevating rap's secret weapon, the turntable, from the street to the stratosphere. Fronting a cultured band of texture-wielding wisemen on that most evocative of instruments (it is, theoretically, all other instruments-- chew on that for a minute), he scratches, adds effects and solos for some tunes and then lays down the beats for the band on other stuff. It's all hip and very dramatic, and the crew he brought to town (including bassist Matt Rubano of Lauren Hill's Miseducation of Lauren Hill) successfully grooved the borders between classy, classic and downright dirty.

Several Medeski Martin and Wood tracks surfaced in the jams, as did some serious old-school funk, a little bit of hard reggae and even a dazzling cover of Herbie Hancock's "Watermelon Man."

When encore time came, due to the lack of a backstage, the band just milled around until Logic grabbed a mic and queried, "Do y'all want some more?" We always did.

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9/30/00 Larry Keel at the Starr Hill Music Hall
The wildman from Natural Bridge returned to the roost with a Saturday show in the new room, experiencing something he's probably never had in Charlottesville before, a full, efficient house P.A. The show was well attended despite the fact that Charlottesvillians had never been asked to pay more than $5 to see him play before. (Saturday's ticket price was $8.)

The Real Keel
I thought the sound was pretty rough, especially compared to the Project Logic mix two nights earlier. Keel and Co. were harsh up close to the stage, and then dead from back in the room. (It is a pretty big space to be amplifying a miked up acoustic guitar.) But the people didn't seem to mind, and a bunch of dancers got into the act before the show was over, hooting and hopping like they thought bluegrass was something you were supposed to dance to. Silly mammals.

I was in deep wonder over the conspicuous absence of Dobro Bill Cardine, a local boy (Walker's Run) who had been working with the Keels on a bunch of tour dates. The band at Starr Hill would have benefitted nicely from his rippin' resophonic accompaniment (they let Roger Fox play with them for chrissakes...), but alas, no Bill. Still, Keel remains the triumphant six-string terror that he has always been-- the mightiest bearded wierdo to ever get psychedelic on a bluegrass guitar-- and that always makes a good show.

--Cripsy Duck

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