-:-:-.'.'.'.-:-:-.'.'.'.-:-:-.'.'.'.-:-:-.'.'.'.-:-:-
+muses+ +the crawl+ +na-na+ +venues+ +info+

++-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-++
Rosy Glows and Makin' Trax
12-5-99
(printed as "Makin' Trax" in C-Ville Weekly Vol. 11, No.50)

Lauren Hoffman - David Lowery - Steve Koester - Kitty
The Pietasters - Deep Banana Blackout - The Elderly - Unit F - Siddal

Lowery digging on some Hoffman

I dig Lauren Hoffman. She writes interesting, compelling tunes, she rocks, she's unique, and she's one of those rare people who refused to succomb to some music biz dork's idea of what a chick singer is supposed to do and escaped with her integrity intact. Her original stuff is enough to make her Shut Up and Listen shows every other Thursday at the Tokyo Rose a good crawl destination, but when I heard she was bringing in David Lowery, producer of many cool east coast records (including Hoffman's Megiddo and September '67's Lucky Shoe) and the muse behind Cracker and Camper Van Beethoven, I was on it. They've been doing a mini-tour with two artists from his fledgling pitch-a-tent record label, performing "in the round" at a few cool clubs, and so, there in the red subterranean glow of the Tokyo Rose, the four of them traded two-tune sets, showing off four distinct facets of independent pop possibilities. Steve Koester and his small combo did their variation on sleepy living room rock, putting me in mind of Wil Oldham and his Palace variations. Kitty laid out some fine acoustic rock, shining with her powerful voice. Hoffman was in her element, cranking out a nice version of John Lennon's Mother (complete with beyond-the-grave Lennon-style manic shrieking) and doing justice to Rock Star, Look Like Shit and some other goodies.

Hail the Mighty Lowery!

Lowery was an electric maelstrom stomping on his sampler trigger to add pre-recorded second guitar and string passages to his quirky American rock stuff. Since I was a bit of a Camper-head back in the eighties, living the silly life to a soundtrack of their skate-humor and border ska, the show peaked for me when he pulled out All Her Favorite Fruit from Camper Van Beethoven's last record together, Key Lime Pie. Lowery enjoys a good silly lyrical notion but will be remembered, I believe, as a producer of an epic form of American songsmithy. There's really no one like him.

It was still early when they finished up so I crawled over to Trax to check out third wave ska revivalists, the Pietasters, but could only catch the last couple of tunes of their early starting show. I was still psyched. There's nothing quite like the boot stomping fun of a true seven man, suit-wearing, beer spitting ska band. Complete with a tight horn section and a barrage of psyche-up-the-skankers party tunes, they were a sight to behold. Their singer kept going on about a party on Valley Rd., so there was either a party over there after the show or somebody had a lot of neighborhood traffic to deal with. You gotta love it.

Deep Banana Bonus

On Friday I was lured back to Trax to experience the Deep Banana Blackout. What a fine funky jam band they are. Their nicely polished near two hour set showcased long grooves with big spaces for the players to lay out extended solos. Covers of James Brown, Lenny Kravitz and Sly and the Family Stone tunes were mixed in with their original funk rock. Featuring a powerful guitarist, a trombone, a sax, and a vocalist in the "daughters of J. Joplin" mode, they were a people pleasing bunch versed in a slew of classic old school funk maneuvers. "Deep Banana Blackout!" their sexy lead singer would incant between tunes, prompting me to wonder what kind of comic book porno concept their name originated as. Of course, I have no room to talk, my name is Duck.

Tony wasn't too bummed I missed his band, Riot Act

On Saturday I was still at Trax and would have sworn I'd never left if not for the fact that I'd missed Slacker Work Ethic and Riot Act and the previous night's neo-hippies had been replaced by boot wearing punks and other lovely oddities. The Eldery came on and delivered their power punk for the local supporters, proving their gritty excellence with thrash-o-rama superjams. Unit F headlined with their metallic punk song crafting. They're tough enough for a thrasher to dig and I was hearing in them stuff that, if played for the right ears, could actually get some airplay. Most impressive.

The Charlottesville punk scene plays host to a pretty gregarious lot who have interfaced nicely with the local goth community, the two scenes helping each other by sharing shows and supporting each other's gatherings. I was feeling kind of at home myself, so I got sucked along with the rest of the Trax crowd over to the Dawning at Tokyo Rose. There Siddal was performing a dream-state mellow dark keyboard fantasy. The in-house coven was in deep meditation on the sweet soaring vocals of their wing-clad lead singer and the spacey guitar silouettes of her low-key cohort whose studio was the site of the sessions for Bella Morte's last disc, Where Shadows Lie. I found myself over by the bar yapping away with a South Carolinian rock journalist I'd just met, getting shooshed by people on the dance floor periodically (and rightly so) but we just couldn't help ourselves, both of us being pretty excited about how much cool stuff is happening around here.

Sure enough, Charlottesville rocks if you can just pry away its clamshell exterior and get down to where the cool people grope.

-Cripsy Duck

e-mail cripsyduck@mindspring.com