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Election Rejection
by Cripsy Duck 11-14-00
(printed in C-VILLE Vol.12, No.47)
SANDIP BURMAN AND FRIENDS - THE PIETASTERS - V8 PUSSY
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Floridamnation! Floridivine intervention? Floridumb. Floridawdling. Floridull. Floridenied! Floridamned if we do, Floridamned if we don't. FLORIDUH! American politics have rarely risen from such bland lows to such nail-biting highs with such loveably disgusting intensity. At this point I'm kinda hoping George Dubya got the race-- despite the damage he's likely to inflict upon the Supreme Court-- just so I can spend the next four years laughing at his illiteracy. That man is a true prize! The band-aided pustule on his cheek is only the beginning-- he's gonna make Gerald Ford look like a ballerina and Dan Quayle look like an astrophysicist! What a piece of work. (Hey, my dad was a Navy pilot, but you don't see me out pretending I can land an A-4 Skyhawk on an aircraft carrier!) That guy's not fit to coach a junior high basketball team, let alone run the most influential country in the free world. He can't even speak! And Al Gore-- more like Al Snore, if you ask me. I can't believe anybody actually voted for either of these shiftless boobs. Hilarious. Danny Schmidt has posted an election day folk song at mp3.com that sizes this situation up nicely. It's called "Super Confuseday," and it's at here so go check it out.
11/9/00 Calcuttan tabla virtuoso Sandip Burman returned to Charlottesville at the helm of an Indian classical/acousti-jazz fusion troupe including flautist and long-time collaborator John Wubbenhorst, bassist Steve Zerlin, and Flecktones founding member and harmonica/keyboard wizard Howard Levy.
Starr Hill was decked out like a Hindu temple, with flower bouquets, candles and plush Asian rugs adorning the stage. The band showed their reverence by sitting on the floor in the style of Indian classical musicians-- except for Howard Levy, who played keyboard from a chair and stood to play harmonica. It was a return to the fold for Levy, whose departure from the Flecktones left many wondering what had become of the brilliant but dorky harmonica master. His presence here was very welcome though he did cop a little admittedly deserved diva 'tude, waving Wubbenhorst away from the microphone during a section he felt should be "his own." Burman had an unusual set-up for the gig: four of the smaller "tabla" were arranged around him onstage, tuned to different pitches-- very irregular for an Indian drummer-- two drums are the norm. But then again, Sandip Burman is no ordinary Indian classical percussionist. Skilled enough to accompany devoted traditionalists like sitarist Pandit Ravi Shankar and vocalist Pandit Jasraj, he still loves to indulge his penchant for cross-pollination, jamming with a variety of world-instrumentalists from electric banjo man Bela Fleck to frame drum master Glen Velez. Many Indian musicians would sneer at the prospect of "lowering" themselves thus. Perhaps rightly so. Though Levy remains a very inventive harmonica player with enough chops to handle Burman's more complex pieces, and Zerlin (though too quiet in the mix) was also competent to hang, it became obvious who was "running circles" around who as the show turned to a round of calls and responses that only Burman could anticipate. It takes a great deal of fortitude to match the pace of a man trained 6-10 hours a day for the better part of a decade under the tutelage of an Indian guru. Then again, this particular band is still in its formational period, so maybe down the road we'll see the Americans tighten up. Still, a delightful show.
11/10/00
Ska was the Jamaican horn band cousin to big band American pop that preceded reggae in the 1960's and then disappeared as its slower, stoned-out and spiritualized offspring took over the airwaves. It then saw a resurgence in late '70's Britain amongst punkish youth yearning for upbeat race-barrier-crashing dance bands and political lyrics. It surfaced again briefly in the mid '80's when a few groups-- notably Fishbone and even Camper Van Beethoven-- picked up its rhythms and textures, and finally again in the '90's when garage punks almost succeeded in turning it back into a pop-form. I suppose the Pietasters belong to this last group, though they most strongly resemble the British "second wave" or Two-Tone style. A full band with horns and party energy to spare, the Pietasters deliver the true, blue-eyed, skanking, rude-boy package, singing about drunken exploits and general zaniness, and I wouldn't miss them even if I didn't want to review them. One of the best of a now too rare breed.
11/11/00
V8 Pussy has matured into a gloriously cocky little prick of a band. Their dark punkabilly package-- I call it spookabilly-- is hilarious retro gunk retooled and delivered dark and steamy-- like a plate of fresh and somehow disturbingly desirable doo-doo. Deriving their name from a poem in the movie "Gummo" ("... she's got a V8 Pussy and a Cadillac ass...") and paying tribute to the theft in their themesong, the Pussies are no wimps, and their blend of rawness, raucousness, and sheer silliness ensures that they'll be an act to watch for in the coming seasons. Very cool rock and roll from members of Bella Morte, the Counselors and Unit F.
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