+front+ +bands+ +the crawl+ +c.d.'s+ +b.s.+ +dissent+ +venues+ +info+
Give 'Em The Boot
by Cripsy Duck 10-15-00
(printed in C-VILLE Vol.12, No.43)
LAKE TROUT - STANLEY JORDAN - THE ELDERLY - THE PROLES
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
|
Flyer posting may not be the most finesseful art, but common sense suggests that a certain etiquette be applied. For instance: while cruising past the Corner mid-day last week I saw some "rock and roll"-looking types holding a flyer to a lamp-post and wrapping the entire post with tape, creating a shiny two foot seal-a-meal display you'd need a razor to remove. Talk about tacky. If I'd been flyering behind them I would have done everything in my power to cover their work with mine-- damn their gig to hell! People, be cool! There may well be ordinances against flyering around here, and if you abuse the leeway we're granted, city folks will eventually protest our posters off the streets. Be courteous, don't cover flyers for upcoming events, and use something to stick 'em up that can be relatively easily removed. (If you were smart, you'd try to make really high-quality super-cool flyers in the hopes that people might take them home-- setting your infamy in stone, as it were.) This all falls under the heading of "screwing it up for the rest of us," and I feel that similar rules apply to noise on the Downtown Mall. Victor Cabas' semi-acoustic blues never bothered me. Nor did Harmonica Dave Dupont. These guys are mellow, low-impact freelance entertainers. But those hippy kids who bring their generator and play full-on electric down there annoy the snot out of me. I don't even stop to size up their music because I'm mildly offended by their lack of courtesy-- cranking up a full psychedelic band in a public place without the grace to consider who it annoys or how it's going to affect the "scene." Get a real gig, you lame-os!
10/12/00 Hail the mighty Trout and the dark and beautiful musical goo they spew! Several hundred of us packed into Trax for the full Trout effect, the dance and pulse spasms they conjure in the unsuspecting with their sustained restraint and timely explosions. I edged in close to get a look at how they get their crazy sounds and was suprised by the elegant complexity of their arrangement.
The cyclone centers around a powerful bass player, a drummer and a "lead" guitarist who riffs. On top of that you have a keyboard player/saxophone/ flautist/vocalist with some bonus tricks up his sleeve. When the beat aquires that massive sustained-note low-end hip-hop "Booooom" on the bass drum, that's actually Matt Pierce at the keys, doubling drummer Michael Lowry's kick-drum parts. Cool, huh? Meanwhile, centerstage, the other guitarist/vocalist Woody Ranere snatches samples off the band and sends those back through the P.A. During one pause he'd captured the drum-part, repeating the beat with one finger until the crew rejoined him. With the Trout, it's all about tension and release. Grooves are developed slowly, people drop out, massive tension builds and then WHAM!-- they all kick back in, instantly dissolving the pressure. Rave-style dancers spasm in orgiastic bliss as the band works this magic. Highlights included guitarist Ed Harris copping and repeating a fragment of a famous Jimmy Page solo, providing the foundation for a freaky sequence segueing into one of their own tunes. High praise must also be doled out for their late-show rendition of Black Sabbath's "War Pigs"-- with flute substituted for Ozzy's vocal-- which put an almost irrevocable smile on my face. Bizarre, beautiful Trout.
10/13/00
Wasn't it Eddie Van Halen who showed the world the power of two-handed fretboard work on the electric guitar? Playing the instrument like a keyboard, he changed the way rock musicians approached the guitar with his lightening technique and fresh voicings. Shortly thereafter came Michael Hedges' percussive new-world acoustic wizardry. And then a few years later came Stanley Jordan's jaw-dropping jazz-informed solo electric pop explorations. Jordan has always been a singularly inspired mutant, hammering both hands on the neck of his triple-strapped-on electric guitar like that was the way the thing was supposed to be played, shaking his head around and getting downright freaky for those who appreciate his stripped-down high-brow eloquence. Friday night he pulled out all the stops for a full house at Starr Hill, nicely rendering fresh improvisations of his stuff and breathing new life into unusual standards ranging from Simon and Garfunkel's "El Condor Pasa" to the Beatles' "And I Love Her" to the Sound of Music classic "Favorite Things." The man remains a marvel of modern music.
10/13/00
Drunk as hell on Friday the 13th, I moshed like an over-amped feverish dumbass to the Elderly's power punk until some unbalanced little goth chick decided to take out her misguided fury on "the hippy kid"-- that is, me-- by putting a big boot print in the middle of my back. Bitch! I kicked her back and a brief scuffle ensued. It's funny to me because the younger goths actually believe that "kick a hippy" crap while the older goths (and punks, too) realize that they are, in essence, hippies themselves. It was the last Proles show for some time due to the impending departure of their drummer, but I only managed to last a few tunes of their guts 'n glory grunge. My buzz had been successfully stomped.
|
