cinco de mayo, fred's fest
it's another one of those "haven't posted in a coupla real eventful days; what do i remember?" kinda posts.
sat'day was, of course, cinco de mayo, and i got to hear some of latin express' set at the market (everytime the sliding doors slid open, anyway). their set hasn't changed much in the last few yrs, but i'm always glad to hear 'em -- it's kinda reassuring (as katboy sez, "like realizing the value of pi is still 3.14"). also saw kenneth, the drummer from lady pearl's b.t.a. band when i usedta play with them at the swing club at evans and allen a coupla yrs back, whom i didn't recognize at first; mea culpa. when i got off work, went home to a dinner of potato 'n' egg burritos (an eggy day; my sweetie sent me out the door that afternoon on a spinach 'n' asparagus frittata that filled me up real good) before suiting up to join the asian media crew in documenting / disrupting the me-thinks' "drinko de mayo" show (second stop on their three-date "tour" of fort worth) at the wreck room.
on the way in, heard the panther city bandits starting up and wondered, "wtf -- is _broooce springsteen_ opening for the me-thinks?!?!?" before the end of their set, tho, the bandits (playing their first full-on "show" after a preliminary icebreaker at the chat room) had won me over with their hot combo platter of anthemic heartland rock, slammin' punk, and dropkick murphys-ish irish beer-drankin' songs. they have two capable singer-gtrists, a tight riddim section, a gal on wurlitzer pianner, and a sound that's varied enough to hold yr interest song to song. best new band i've heard in awhile, i'm thinking.
next up were the fellow americans, who have a new ceedee coming just any day now, and attempt to answer the musical question, "what would it sound like if the remnants of the rio grande babies (r.i.p.) joined forces with john price's much cooler li'l brother?" the ex-babies continue to rawk aggressively, while baby-faced jeff price looks like he belongs in front of another band -- something emo-ish, p'rhaps -- but once he gets his confidence up, a coupla songs into the set, his performance has a kind of goofy charm (now flailing arms like a 3-year-old on a sugar-'n'-adderall high, now posing and pointing like he was john foxx or something). and he put in a plug for my book. thanks, jeff.
with their keyboard-heavy theatrical metallic prog, dentonites shaolin death squad seemed a little out of place on this bill, but they brought their own crowd and rocked in their own quirky, mask-wearing way, playing selections from their intelligent design cd. i walked around and heard the story of a friend who got flooded out of her house; the southside took it hard in last wednesday's storms, with lotsa power outages, fallen trees, and uninsured flood damage.
then the me-thinks, sporting new gear they just got to replace what was stolen from their warehouse by the motherless, fatherless bahstids a coupla weeks ago. mike bandy from barrel delux is a worthy addition on gtr; he's wild and abandoned where sir marlin von bungy is solid and steady, and with time, this tandem has the potential to come up with some really good things. for the time being, bandy's still finding his way into the material from the me-thinks present the make mine a double e.p. on drums, trucker jon simpson sounds like he owns these songs now, and up front, ray liberio remains evabody's favorite jovial inebriate. "this could be our last time here at the wreck room," he said, and he and his bros toasted each other and the crowd and played like they meant to blow the walls down all by themselves. the boys played a coupla new ones i hadn't heard before; time will tell how things are going to work with songwriting secret weapon will risinger relegated to "spiritual advisor" status. (thanks to ray's g-f linda for shilling books for me along with me-thinks merch.)
sunday morning i walked over to walgreen's to buy some 9Vs for my stompboxes, and we breakfasted light, figuring to scarf fredburgers before the stoogeset at fred's fest, skedded for 3pm. i was "working a double," as they say in the service industry, since impulse of will was playing immediately after stoogeaphilia, but i wasn't alone: so were chuck rose and blake hestir (howling dervishes / gideons), ray liberio (stoogeaphilia / me-thinks), and carl pack (guest voxxx with impulse / gideons).
my varsity equipment still at sessions music for repair, i was carrying james hunter's squier tele and borrowing will risinger's dr. z (same amp i used for fredfest last yr, in fact). we arrived at fonky fred's midway into tongue's set. the cleburne-based trio's mid-tempo grunge-rock sounds good outdoors, so good in fact that wreck room impresario brian forella added them to the baboon/beautiful disaster bill this coming friday. singer-gtrist daniel ferry sez they have new cd toonage coming soon, too.
my sweetie 'n' i hung out with katboy and scarfed fredburgers while merkin played maybe the rawkin'-est set i've ever heard from them. the river oaks threesome sounded born-again hard, with drummer cameron slamming the beats. (is it my imagination, or have they speeded up the tempos on some of their toons? for a minute, i thought they mighta watched that thing you do or something.) cameron had his drumset covered in budweiser labels and asked all of the musos present to sign his kick drum head. jon teague wound up using cameron's kit to play the stoogeset because he forgot he'd given daron beck the keys to the great tyrant's prac pad and so couldn't retrieve his own drums.
stoogeaphilia got delayed by a sprinkling of rain, which sent john zaskoda and brandon wallace off to sessions music to replace the mains from wizard o' sound andre edmonson's p.a. we planned to play 12 songs in our 45-minute slot, which meant minimal time between songs for tuning (and teague told me, "make sure we have eye contact before you start anything. i need to have time to swill."). in the event, we dropped "funhouse" because ray didn't have his lyric cheat sheets. the only egregious clam of the set was mine, when i misread the setlist _that i wrote_ and played the first chord to "i got a right" instead of "not right." duh. and i broke a string two songs into the set. fortunately, sir steffin had just done a setup on the "hello kitty" squier strat that the ppl ray works with had given him, so i used that for the rest of the afternoon. (ron geida and marlin von bungy, bless them, both offered to lend me gtrs, but i told 'em both that i wouldn't know what to do with an instrument that wasn't truly second rate.) the hello kitty gtr had a single humbucker by the bridge and no volume control, only tone, so it took away all of the bad choices and sounded pretty ballsy through will's dr. z. the stoogeaphiles rawked hard, as is their wont, and i hopefully redeemed myself from my drunken collapse before we had a chance to play at fredtoberfest.
jam-meister lee allen had had a rough week, what with the full schedule of bands at fred's -- the eric mcfadden trio and honky in addition to the two-day fred's fest extravaganza -- and he'd wanted to make sure that impulse of will's set went well, to the point of trying to schedule a _rehearsal_ and actually _writing a setlist_. in the event, he wound up calling 'em "a la carte," keeping the jamcats guessing from when we hit until we quit (which just means it was a typical impulse of will set). the lineup was ron "the velvet hammer" geida and yr humble chronicler o' events on gtrs, john "johnny peckerwood" shook and the jam-meister on basses, and lucas white on drums. we opened with failure's "daylight," continued with "come together" sung by carl, essayed eric mcfadden's "the ghostmaker" and jeff beck's "you know what i mean," played "manic depression" in response to zaskoda's request for hendrix, and finished with (what else?) "war pigs," sung by carl.
the howling dervishes weren't chuck rose's first band (that honor being reserved for cringe), but they were one of 'em. the early '80s dallas punkers survived long enough to be part of the deep ellum era, and were reactivated last year with blake "johnny singularity" hestir from the gideons on bass. chuck and tom battles alternate voxxx and play dueling telecasters, an awesome sound. after that, the gideons reconvened with original drummer terry valderas back from the wilds of oklahoma to reclaim his thumper throne. terry and chuck have also been doing some jamming on the side ("if you listen to the gideons, you can hear us improvising garage rock," sez terry), and he promises to be a more regular visitor to the fort. (i suggested he fall by the wreck on a wednesday night while it's still open.)
by this time, my attention span was starting to flag, so we cut out before darth vato and holy moly (a unit apparently fronted by aardvark impresario danny weaver) played, altho i did get the chance to introduce one of the panther city bandits to the vatos' steve steward, a dropkick murphys fan. went home and collapsed in an exhausted heap. many thanks to outlaw chef terry chandler for hosting fred's fest, jam-meister lee allen for puttin' it all together, and wizard o' sound andre edmonson for making it sound good. and to all of the fred's staff for dealing with the influx of beer-swilling, fredburger-gobbling music lovers.
sat'day was, of course, cinco de mayo, and i got to hear some of latin express' set at the market (everytime the sliding doors slid open, anyway). their set hasn't changed much in the last few yrs, but i'm always glad to hear 'em -- it's kinda reassuring (as katboy sez, "like realizing the value of pi is still 3.14"). also saw kenneth, the drummer from lady pearl's b.t.a. band when i usedta play with them at the swing club at evans and allen a coupla yrs back, whom i didn't recognize at first; mea culpa. when i got off work, went home to a dinner of potato 'n' egg burritos (an eggy day; my sweetie sent me out the door that afternoon on a spinach 'n' asparagus frittata that filled me up real good) before suiting up to join the asian media crew in documenting / disrupting the me-thinks' "drinko de mayo" show (second stop on their three-date "tour" of fort worth) at the wreck room.
on the way in, heard the panther city bandits starting up and wondered, "wtf -- is _broooce springsteen_ opening for the me-thinks?!?!?" before the end of their set, tho, the bandits (playing their first full-on "show" after a preliminary icebreaker at the chat room) had won me over with their hot combo platter of anthemic heartland rock, slammin' punk, and dropkick murphys-ish irish beer-drankin' songs. they have two capable singer-gtrists, a tight riddim section, a gal on wurlitzer pianner, and a sound that's varied enough to hold yr interest song to song. best new band i've heard in awhile, i'm thinking.
next up were the fellow americans, who have a new ceedee coming just any day now, and attempt to answer the musical question, "what would it sound like if the remnants of the rio grande babies (r.i.p.) joined forces with john price's much cooler li'l brother?" the ex-babies continue to rawk aggressively, while baby-faced jeff price looks like he belongs in front of another band -- something emo-ish, p'rhaps -- but once he gets his confidence up, a coupla songs into the set, his performance has a kind of goofy charm (now flailing arms like a 3-year-old on a sugar-'n'-adderall high, now posing and pointing like he was john foxx or something). and he put in a plug for my book. thanks, jeff.
with their keyboard-heavy theatrical metallic prog, dentonites shaolin death squad seemed a little out of place on this bill, but they brought their own crowd and rocked in their own quirky, mask-wearing way, playing selections from their intelligent design cd. i walked around and heard the story of a friend who got flooded out of her house; the southside took it hard in last wednesday's storms, with lotsa power outages, fallen trees, and uninsured flood damage.
then the me-thinks, sporting new gear they just got to replace what was stolen from their warehouse by the motherless, fatherless bahstids a coupla weeks ago. mike bandy from barrel delux is a worthy addition on gtr; he's wild and abandoned where sir marlin von bungy is solid and steady, and with time, this tandem has the potential to come up with some really good things. for the time being, bandy's still finding his way into the material from the me-thinks present the make mine a double e.p. on drums, trucker jon simpson sounds like he owns these songs now, and up front, ray liberio remains evabody's favorite jovial inebriate. "this could be our last time here at the wreck room," he said, and he and his bros toasted each other and the crowd and played like they meant to blow the walls down all by themselves. the boys played a coupla new ones i hadn't heard before; time will tell how things are going to work with songwriting secret weapon will risinger relegated to "spiritual advisor" status. (thanks to ray's g-f linda for shilling books for me along with me-thinks merch.)
sunday morning i walked over to walgreen's to buy some 9Vs for my stompboxes, and we breakfasted light, figuring to scarf fredburgers before the stoogeset at fred's fest, skedded for 3pm. i was "working a double," as they say in the service industry, since impulse of will was playing immediately after stoogeaphilia, but i wasn't alone: so were chuck rose and blake hestir (howling dervishes / gideons), ray liberio (stoogeaphilia / me-thinks), and carl pack (guest voxxx with impulse / gideons).
my varsity equipment still at sessions music for repair, i was carrying james hunter's squier tele and borrowing will risinger's dr. z (same amp i used for fredfest last yr, in fact). we arrived at fonky fred's midway into tongue's set. the cleburne-based trio's mid-tempo grunge-rock sounds good outdoors, so good in fact that wreck room impresario brian forella added them to the baboon/beautiful disaster bill this coming friday. singer-gtrist daniel ferry sez they have new cd toonage coming soon, too.
my sweetie 'n' i hung out with katboy and scarfed fredburgers while merkin played maybe the rawkin'-est set i've ever heard from them. the river oaks threesome sounded born-again hard, with drummer cameron slamming the beats. (is it my imagination, or have they speeded up the tempos on some of their toons? for a minute, i thought they mighta watched that thing you do or something.) cameron had his drumset covered in budweiser labels and asked all of the musos present to sign his kick drum head. jon teague wound up using cameron's kit to play the stoogeset because he forgot he'd given daron beck the keys to the great tyrant's prac pad and so couldn't retrieve his own drums.
stoogeaphilia got delayed by a sprinkling of rain, which sent john zaskoda and brandon wallace off to sessions music to replace the mains from wizard o' sound andre edmonson's p.a. we planned to play 12 songs in our 45-minute slot, which meant minimal time between songs for tuning (and teague told me, "make sure we have eye contact before you start anything. i need to have time to swill."). in the event, we dropped "funhouse" because ray didn't have his lyric cheat sheets. the only egregious clam of the set was mine, when i misread the setlist _that i wrote_ and played the first chord to "i got a right" instead of "not right." duh. and i broke a string two songs into the set. fortunately, sir steffin had just done a setup on the "hello kitty" squier strat that the ppl ray works with had given him, so i used that for the rest of the afternoon. (ron geida and marlin von bungy, bless them, both offered to lend me gtrs, but i told 'em both that i wouldn't know what to do with an instrument that wasn't truly second rate.) the hello kitty gtr had a single humbucker by the bridge and no volume control, only tone, so it took away all of the bad choices and sounded pretty ballsy through will's dr. z. the stoogeaphiles rawked hard, as is their wont, and i hopefully redeemed myself from my drunken collapse before we had a chance to play at fredtoberfest.
jam-meister lee allen had had a rough week, what with the full schedule of bands at fred's -- the eric mcfadden trio and honky in addition to the two-day fred's fest extravaganza -- and he'd wanted to make sure that impulse of will's set went well, to the point of trying to schedule a _rehearsal_ and actually _writing a setlist_. in the event, he wound up calling 'em "a la carte," keeping the jamcats guessing from when we hit until we quit (which just means it was a typical impulse of will set). the lineup was ron "the velvet hammer" geida and yr humble chronicler o' events on gtrs, john "johnny peckerwood" shook and the jam-meister on basses, and lucas white on drums. we opened with failure's "daylight," continued with "come together" sung by carl, essayed eric mcfadden's "the ghostmaker" and jeff beck's "you know what i mean," played "manic depression" in response to zaskoda's request for hendrix, and finished with (what else?) "war pigs," sung by carl.
the howling dervishes weren't chuck rose's first band (that honor being reserved for cringe), but they were one of 'em. the early '80s dallas punkers survived long enough to be part of the deep ellum era, and were reactivated last year with blake "johnny singularity" hestir from the gideons on bass. chuck and tom battles alternate voxxx and play dueling telecasters, an awesome sound. after that, the gideons reconvened with original drummer terry valderas back from the wilds of oklahoma to reclaim his thumper throne. terry and chuck have also been doing some jamming on the side ("if you listen to the gideons, you can hear us improvising garage rock," sez terry), and he promises to be a more regular visitor to the fort. (i suggested he fall by the wreck on a wednesday night while it's still open.)
by this time, my attention span was starting to flag, so we cut out before darth vato and holy moly (a unit apparently fronted by aardvark impresario danny weaver) played, altho i did get the chance to introduce one of the panther city bandits to the vatos' steve steward, a dropkick murphys fan. went home and collapsed in an exhausted heap. many thanks to outlaw chef terry chandler for hosting fred's fest, jam-meister lee allen for puttin' it all together, and wizard o' sound andre edmonson for making it sound good. and to all of the fred's staff for dealing with the influx of beer-swilling, fredburger-gobbling music lovers.
posted by stashdauber at 8:25 AM
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