He Only Wanted To Be Stevie Wonder, But He Had To Settle For His Vanilla Thunder

Ben Folds did a drop for me. I know that totally sounds like a drug reference, but in reality it's radio lingo. Back in the mid-90's, when Folds' band, Ben Folds Five, was at it's creative zenith (it's first one at least, more on that later), the band played Wavefest. You remember Wavefest, right? If you're under 30 you might not, but for the rest of us aging hipsters desperately clinging to our musical youth (Grizzly Bear? Fun? Screw that, I saw the Butthole Surfers live, ya whippersnapper. Now get off my lawn!"), the years that Wavefest rocked Brittlebank Park and later the Romney Street landfill were some of the best live music events that took place in Charleston in the 90's. Radio station 96 Wave, which I was lucky enough to start interning for just as grunge broke in the early 90's, threw the annual free all day concerts each October. I'll have to write a separate blog entry about the Wavefest years at some point, but for the 1997 edition of the show the bands included headliner David Byrne, as well as Wilco, Son Volt, Cracker, The Jayhawks, Seven Mary Three, Blue Mountain, Junior Brown, Jump Little Children, and Ben Folds Five.
I know, right? Show me a better lineup in the 90's. This was back before multi-day festivals began to breed like fungus throughout the country. By then I was actually working for 96 Wave as a weekend DJ, and being that I was low man on the totem pole, I drew the short straw and had to stay back at the station to run the soundboard and capture the live cut-ins by the full-time DJs. Fortunately, I only had to stay until noon, and then I was off to Wavefest...to work my ass off on site for the rest of the day. As a result of my morning gig at the station I managed to miss Ben Folds Five when they performed. I had seen them a year or so before at the Music Farm, and knew they kicked ass live, so I was a bit bummed to miss them on the huge Wavefest stage. As I was going about my duties at Wavefest, which mostly consisted of delivering bottled water and soft drinks to the refreshment stands around the site, I spied Ben Folds himself strolling around backstage. He seemed approachable, and since I carried a mini tape recorder and microphone with me at all times (I was really into radio back then), I decided to see if he'd do a drop for me. Drops are the recorded station IDs that run between songs. The best ones were when you could get a recording artist to say both your name and the station's name. Fortunately Folds was game, and for the rest of my time at 96 Wave, whenever I played a Ben Folds Five song on my shift it was preceded by Folds himself saying "Hi, this is Ben Folds from Ben Folds Five, and you're listening to Devin Grant on 96 Wave." Folds was actually really nice, and really cool about doing it, and to his credit he nailed it on the first take.
Ben Folds Five broke up in 2000 after releasing three studio albums and a collection of live tracks and rarities. By all accounts it was an amicable split. Pianist Ben Folds, bassist Robert Sledge, and drummer Darren Jessee all went on to their own individual projects and BFF fans were left to listen to their CDs. Folds released some well-received solo albums and scored a few films, but when the trio reconvened last year to record some new music for the BFF box set "The Best Imitation of Myself: A Retrospective." Apparently things went well, because before they knew it BFF was back in the studio recording a proper album and planning a reunion tour. That tour made a stop here in the Lowcountry Wednesday night, the day after "The Sound of The Life of The Mind," the first new studio by BFF in 13 years, was released. Taking my seat at the North Charleston Performing Arts Center, I was a bit dismayed at the fact that the venue was only half full. Any apprehension of a downer show disappeared though when opening act Kate Miller-Heidke opened her mouth. Performing with a guy on acoustic guitar who I later learned was her husband Kier, Miller-Heidke sang her original songs in a voice that was even more original. You could tell she was classically trained by the way she injected opera into her music, and by the end of her set she had received a standing ovation. The Australian-born singer seemed delighted by the long line of folks that lined up in the lobby afterward, clutching her CD and waiting for autographs. She definitely deserved the attention.
When Ben Folds walked out on the PAC's stage with Jessee and Sledge, he approached his grand piano like a kid digging into a giant hot fudge sundae. The band launched into "Michael Praytor, Five Years Later," a track from the new album. The crowd was definitely into it from the beginning, but when BFF played the opening bars of "Jackson Cannery," a popular tune from it's debut album, the audience went bananas. The night was a mix of new songs ("Erase Me," "Sky High," "Do It Anyway") and old classics ("Uncle Walter," "Brick," "Battle of Who Could Care Less," "Kate"). There were also the inevitable antics before, after and during songs that really made the evening. Just before digging into "Uncle Walter" a female member of the audience yelled "I love you, Ben," and Folds, who was literally counting down into the song turned and blew the fan a kiss without missing a beat. He also talked about visiting friends in Charleston over the years, walking up and down King Street and eating in restaurants, but then the singer caught himself rambling and got things back on track, saying "Here's another song. We came to play songs. Songs we made up." Prior to playing "Sky High" Folds had to adjust some strings in his piano. He started to explain what he was doing, but then again got that mischievous look and deadpanned, "I know you didn't pay the high ticket price to watch me stuff bullshit in my piano. Later, after starting an impromptu jam session with Jessee and Sledge that incorporated the soft rock instrumental "Popcorn," Folds wandered offstage, only to return minutes later sporting a blue plastic cup. He stood behind Sledge horsing around for a bit, then took his place back at the piano, advising the crowd, "That was a combination 'Popcorn' slash take a piss and pour another gin and tonic number." For "Draw a Crowd," another song from the new album, Folds advised the crowd, "We'll f**k this song up, but you'll be the first ones ever to hear it live." That got a huge reaction from the audience, and the band actually got through the tune relatively unscathed. That song, by the way, features what are probably my favorite lyrics on the new album. "I only wanted to be Stevie Wonder," sang Folds, adding, "I have to settle for this Vanilla Thunder." The new song "Do It Anyway" has a music video that features the band frolicking with the puppets from the 80's kid show "Fraggle Rock." Folds revealed a few tongue in cheek "facts" about the Fraggles, while Sledge mused about a zombie Jim Henson, much to the horror of his bandmates and much of the crowd ("No, he was cool," pleaded Sledge. "He had one eye..."). At one point as fans were yelling out song requests, Folds zeroed in on a particularly loud voice in the audience. "Man, are you a voice major?," Folds asked the unseen owner of the voice. "No, a singer in a failed rock band," answered the voice. "Man, your band must have sucked," marveled Folds, meaning any band with a voice like that should be destined to succeed. Before anyone knew it, Folds had invited the voice and its owner up on stage to sing "Philosophy." The voice turned out to be one Lewis Dodson from the Drop In Bar and Deli on Folly Beach. Dodson gave it his best, executing David Lee Roth high kicks while singing about half of the lyrics to the song. Folds was impressed enough to invite Dodson backstage after the show, assumedly for a gin and tonic. Stellar versions of "Kate," "Army," and "Song for the Dumped" rounded out the main set, which ended with Folds chucking his piano stool at his keyboard for the songs final note. After a short break the band returned to perform one of my favorite BFF songs, "Underground." It was a truly epic show. Thirteen years after that breakup, BFF is back and as strong as ever.  
Oh, and by the way, Ben Folds is still a nice guy, as evidenced by his actions after Wednesday night's show. Afterward there were about twenty-five fans hanging out at the entrance to the loading dock behind the venue. I tagged along with a friend who wanted to get an autograph. Hanging out after the show waiting for an artist to possibly show up is a total crap shoot (Hmmm, I'll have to write a blog about that too, because I've had some interesting experiences doing that...). On Wednesday night though the stars aligned and all three members of the band strolled out to hang with their fans for a bit. Folds was as nice as ever. He and his compadres signed autographs, posed for photos, and were generally very cool until a handler materialized after about 20 minutes and said they had to go. It's nice to know some things don't change with time.

I Love Ya, Tomorrow

When I was in first grade, back at Scripps Elementary School in San Diego, I was interested in the same sort of things as most other 6 year olds. Riding bikes, going to the beach, playing with Hot Wheels cars, and kickball were high on the list. Star Wars, an obsession that stays with me to this day, was still a year away. What was also happening in 1976 though, was a Presidential election. Gerald Ford, the former House Minority Leader, had assumed first the Vice Presidency, then the Presidency as the Watergate scandal racked up its political casualties. In 1976 Ford was running against former Georgia Governor Jimmy Carter. One day at school, assumedly late in the election year, I was involved in a brief yet intense schoolyard confrontation between 6 year old supporters of Ford and similarly-aged fans of Carter. "We want Ford!" chanted one side, while the other had a Carter mantra going. I remember one kid had fashioned a sign out of a piece of notebook paper and a paperclip. As the two mobs approached each other, seemingly on a collision course to a pint-sized rumble, several teachers stepped in and reminded us that we were supposed to be hanging off the jungle gym, not debating an election we were still a dozen years away from being able to vote in. The respective mobs quickly dispersed, and all was well. I honestly don't even remember what side I was cheering for, although knowing the way my mind worked, I likely gravitated toward Ford, since his name sounded like a car.
I'm telling you this story, a tale that until just a few days ago I had all but forgotten about, because for a large part of 2012 I have been engaging my "friends" on Facebook in some pretty heated political discussions. Now, I love a good debate, and I've had some pretty passionate exchanges with folks, but earlier this week I realized that by both taking and laying the political bait, I was basically resorting to acting like that six year old from 1976. Actually, given some of my retorts to folks on Facebook, I was actually far more mature at six. It made me think, and then, as more often than not happens, it caused me to write. To my surprise, I was immediately deluged by friends who gave me virtual pats on the back for stopping a little of the madness. Well, there was the one guy who called me a very rude name, but as I have known him for years I'm fairly certain he was joking, or else he was asking about my cat. It definitely will be tough going cold turkey. I almost immediately found myself reaching for the keyboard to comment on a political post, only to literally slap my own hand away before I broke my promise. I'm sure as the election draws closer I'll be doing that more and more often. No matter how the election plays out, I'll likely have some things to say on election day, which is when I'll allow myself to break my self-imposed silence. For now though, I'm going to concentrate on what truly interests me. Take the local band A Fragile Tomorrow for instance. This band consists of three brothers, 18 year old Brendan Kelly and Sean and Dominic Kelly, both 20, as well as 26 year old Shaun Rhoades. These guys have been tearing it up for the last few years, and in that time they have had the chance to play with everyone from Amy Ray of Indigo Girls, to The Bangles, to Matthew Sweet. They play a heady mix of rock and power pop, and if you haven't heard them yet you're really missing out on what could be the next big thing out of Charleston. Heck, they've really already busted out of    

"All right, I'm done. I'll admit that I like a good argument (my favorite Monty Python sketch, I mean after the Lumberjack one and the Cheese Shop one? The argument sketch), but in this election year I've finally hit the wall. From now until election day I will neither post, nor contribute to any political discussions. It took a particularly sad incident recently to wake me up and see how little I'm accomplishing by arguing on FB. No one's going to change my mind, and I'm not going to sway anyone with different ideals than me. Hell, I'm not even that political. I'm going to get back to talking about what really moves me: music, film, photography, all things geeky, and most importantly, my beautiful family. Oh, it'll be hard going cold turkey, because like I said, I REALLY love a good debate, but politically I'm going dark until election day in 3...2...1..."

To my surprise, I was immediately deluged by friends who gave me virtual pats on the back for stopping a little of the madness. Well, there was the one guy who called me a very rude name, but as I have known him for years I'm fairly certain he was joking, or else he was asking about my cat. It definitely will be tough going cold turkey. I almost immediately found myself reaching for the keyboard to comment on a political post, only to literally slap my own hand away before I broke my promise. I'm sure as the election draws closer I'll be doing that more and more often. No matter how the election plays out, I'll likely have some things to say on election day, which is when I'll allow myself to break my self-imposed silence. For now though, I'm going to concentrate on what truly interests me. Take the local band A Fragile Tomorrow for instance. This band consists of three brothers, 18 year old Brendan Kelly and Sean and Dominic Kelly, both 20, as well as 26 year old Shaun Rhoades. These guys have been tearing it up for the last few years, and in that time they have had the chance to play with everyone from Amy Ray of Indigo Girls, to The Bangles, to Matthew Sweet. They play a heady mix of rock and power pop, and if you haven't heard them yet you're really missing out on what could be the next big thing out of Charleston. Heck, they've really already busted out of the "local band" label. The guys were nice enough to give me a sneak listen to their new album, "Be Nice Be Careful," which they plan on releasing on January 8, 2013. The band worked with famed producer Mitch Easter, who has also twirled the knobs for bands such as R.E.M, Pavement, Suzanne Vega, and Velvet Crush. If you're a fan of high energy power pop with great guitars (Brendan is so good at 18, I can't imagine what he'll sound like on his axe in another decade) and wonderful vocals (mostly by Sean, but it's a group effort), then you'll want to mark your calendars so you can pick up a copy. In the meantime, check out the band at their website www.afragiletomorrow.com for more info, and try to see them live when they're in town, which these days isn't often. Also send out some positive energy to Dominic, who went into the hospital earlier this week for an emergency appendectomy. He's going to be just fine, unless you count that incriminating video his brothers shot of him rambling while still coming down from the anesthesia. It's floating around YouTube, and it's hilarious, although Dom would tell you otherwise.

Good Vibra(phone)tions

While I've always been a fan of the basic rock and roll setup of drums, bass, a guitar or two, and a singer, I also love it when someone finds a way to rock out in a unique way. Bands such as Ben Folds Five (piano, bass, drums), Morphine (bass, saxophone, drums), and White Stripes (guitar and drums) have all found a way to make music on their own terms. Locally there's an act doing the same thin. Oh Ginger consists of singer-songwriters Lindsay Holler and Michael Hanf. The two used to perform together in Lindsay Holler and The Dirty Kids, an act that received a lot of attention locally a few years back. Hanf eventually relocated to New York City, but he and Holler kept in touch and continued to bounce musical ideas off one another. Those long distance collaborations eventually became what is now Oh Ginger. The duo has already released two EPs of original music, "Oh! Ginger" and "[Ohginger]," and have at least one more planned. In keeping with the theme we have going here of unorthodox rock band lineups, Oh Ginger features Holler on guitar and vocals and Hanf alternating between guitar and vibraphone, while also handling some of the singing duties. Yes, I said vibraphone, which for the uninitiated is like a xylophone, but with long metal tubes underneath the struck metal bars. Listen to the music created by jazz legend Lionel Hampton, and you'll surely hear vibraphone, since it was Hampton's signature instrument while he was alive.
The music made simply by Holler's and Hanf's voices, guitar and vibes is a lot more complex than you'd expect from a two-instrument lineup, but at the same time there's a beautiful starkness to it. I've thoroughly enjoyed the first two EPs, so when I heard that Hanf and Holler would be performing the music of Oh Ginger live, I made plans to be there. I figured it would probably be my only chance to see the duo live, considering they live in different cities. The show took place at Theatre 99, the venue owned by local improv troupe The Have Nots. It's a small, cozy space, with 99 seats, hence the name of the place. The stage held just Hanf's vibraphone, Holler's acoustic guitar, a stool and three microphones. By the time the show had started there were about four dozen or so folks in the audience, which, considering the fact that Oh Ginger isn't exactly a high profile band, was fairly impressive for a Thursday night in Charleston. Hanf and Holler took to the stage a little after 8pm, and launched into "Sides,"a high lonesome cut from the second EP. "Take the keys and head out West/find us a quiet place to rest," sang Holler and she strummed her guitar while Hanf played the vibes. I'd never really thought about the vibraphones being used outside of jazz music until I saw Hanf play with The Dirty Kids. He works the instrument into a particular song much like one would expect to hear an accordion or mandolin, and it works beautifully. Throughout the show Holler and Hanf had the crowd in the palm of their hands as they performed more originals from both Oh Ginger Eps, as well as a few interesting covers. A reworking of "If I Only Had a Brain" from the film The Wizard of Oz was great, as was their take on "Sunken Treasure," a song from my favorite Wilco album, "Being There." Hanf switched from vibes to Holler's guitar and a harmonica for "Don't Call Me," a breakup song with a folksy Bob Dylan-like sound. Another Hanf song, "And So It Goes," features one of my favorite Oh Ginger lines; "She drinks like a canyon to go to sleep." Other covers included re-imaginings of Radiohead's "Videotape," the lyrics of which were made even more haunting by Holler's voice, and Nick Drake's "Black-Eyed Dog." It was an incredibly beautiful and intimate show, and I think everyone who was there got the feeling that they were experiencing something special. Holler has what is probably my favorite female voice in all of the Lowcountry, which is saying a lot when you consider that she's in company with women like Cary Ann Hearst, Megan Jean, Jamie Resch, and Rachel Kate Gillon. Hanf and Holler are currently on the road supporting the Oh Ginger EPs, and the rod trip will culminate with a performance tonight at Google's Lounge above The Living Room in New York City. When the duo do return to Charleston, and hopefully they will sooner rather than later, do yourself a favor and check out this very unorthodox, yet incredibly good band. You can find more info about the band at their website, ohginger.net. The EPs are for sale there, as well as in stores locally and on iTunes.

Hey Joe

For every local musician out there who yearns to play live at some venue, tour outside their hometown, or have their new album heard by someone, there is a small army of non-musicians that help make that happen. Be it a journalist like myself, a publicist, a club owner, or the head of an independent label, there is a symbiotic relationship that exists between artists and the folks that support them.
Here in Charleston when a musician falls on hard times, more often than not the community finds a way to help. It happened earlier this year at the Mac'n at the 'Drome benefit concert for Mac Leaphart, who was sidelined late last year with a brain tumor. A small army of musicians, radio folk, techies, and fans came out to raise money to help Leaphart, who has since returned to performing. It's happening right now in the case of Nick Collins, the guitarist and vocalist in the local band Fowler's Mustache. Earlier this month Collins was involved in a horrible car accident that found him first ejected from the back of a vehicle, and then had his legs run over by an 18-wheeler. Collins has had most of his left leg amputated as a result, and faces a long road to recovery. The outpouring of generosity from the community for Collins has already been amazing, and more offers to help keep rolling in.
The latest member of the local entertainment community in need of assistance is someone I consider a friend. Joe Meli was a majority owner of two legendary nightclubs in North Charleston. As a twenty-something part-time radio deejay in the 90's, I saw many a great show at the Carolina Concert Stage, part of the Desperados complex. Blues Traveler, Sheryl Crow, Crowded House, De La Soul and A Tribe Called Quest are just a few of the great acts I got to see there. Later on, after Desperados closed, Meli and his partners opened The Plex just down the street on Aviation Avenue. By then I was reviewing concerts for the Post & Courier, and I had the chance to experience a dizzying array of acts there, including Violent Femmes, My Morning Jacket, Tom Jones, Cake, Styx, Ted Nugent, George Clinton, The Black Crowes, and The Cult. During my time covering those shows I was treated quite well by Meli, Bob Shipley, and the rest of the folks at The Plex. Sure, I was there to review the shows they were putting on, so it behooved them to give me access, but Meli was always there with a smile, asking me how the family was, and what else was going on in my life. He's a good guy. After The Plex closed a few years ago, Meli and I lost touch, so it was quite shocking when Shipley contacted me recently to let me know that Meli was dealing with some serious health issues. I won't go into what he's been through, but suffice to say its more than one person should have to deal with in a lifetime.
Back to the generosity of the local entertainment community. To help Meli with his medical expenses, Shipley is spearheading a benefit show at the Hippodrome downtown. It's the same venue that hosted the Mac Leaphart benefit show I mentioned earlier. The benefit/appreciation comedy show for Meli will take place this coming Wednesday, August 29th, and will feature nationally recognized standup comedians Jerry Farber, Shaun Jones, Just June, Brian Shirley, and Dave Ugly. You get a full evening of comedy for just $20 and the money will go to help pay Meli's medical bills. I plan to be there, if only to see my friend and let him know he's appreciated. I urge anyone reading this who may have been affected by Meli's work, be it as an employee or a customer, to come out and enjoy the evening. Doors are at 7pm, with the show starting at 8pm. Tickets are available in advance at the Hippodrome, The Dog and Duck in Mt. Pleasant, The Noisy Oyster (North Charleston and downtown locations), and the Firewater Grille. Come on out and have a laugh with Joe.    

Don't Stop

One of my earliest musical memories that involved seeking out music on my own involves Lindsey Buckingham. At the age of seven I inherited a clunky little clock radio from my parents, the kind that had the little numbered plastic panels that flipped over each minute to show the correct time. It was high-tech back in the mid-70's, and when I went to bed each night I turned it on with the volume very low and listened to San Diego radio station KGB-FM (looking back on it now, probably the coolest call letters you could have in the middle of the Cold War). It was while listening to that radio that I started breaking away from the listening habits instilled in me by my parents; he of the Kingston Trio and Simon & Garfunkel albums, and she of the Beatles, country music, and show tunes. I discovered the good stuff (The Who, Rod Stewart, Eric Clapton) and the questionable (a strange fascination with the Silver Convention song "Fly Robin Fly").
One sound I continually gravitated toward though back in 1977 was that of Fleetwood Mac. At seven years old I was too young to know the name Fleetwood Mac, of that the band had recently switched from being a British blues powerhouse to adopting a more pop-oriented California rock sound, thanks to the addition of Americans Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks. Fleetwood Mac released its masterpiece, "Rumours," that year, and the band's music was everywhere. But again, since I was in first grade and as yet innocent to the intoxicating and addictive business of rock and roll (oh, I'd fall under its spell soon enough), I only knew what I was hearing on my trusty clock radio. Looking back now, although I really didn't know, or really care about the song titles, I was waiting for songs like "Dreams," "Don't Stop," and "Go Your Own Way" to come on. The vocals of Nicks and Buckingham mesmerized me, even though I had no idea who they were. All I knew was that those voices, coupled with Mick Fleetwood's trademark thump-ah-thump drum sound and Buckingham's screaming guitar gave me goosebumps.
Once I started actually paying attention to names, titles and songs, I became a huge Fleetwood Mac fan. I've never been able to see the band live now, which is why I was really looking forward to seeing Buckingham when he performed at the North Charleston Performing Arts Center last Saturday night. There was no opening act, and surprisingly there were only about 700 people there for the show. Buckingham walked onstage with an acoustic guitar just after 9pm, greeted the audience, and kicked into "Castaway Dreams."
For a solo act Buckingham sure came prepared. An impressive array of amplifiers and equipment sat behind him on the stage, and an equally amazing collection of guitars were tucked away just offstage. After a lesser-known Fleetwood Mac tune, "Bleed to Love Her," and another song, "It's Not Too Late," Buckingham's roadie brought out his trademark Model One electric guitar. Just the sight of the instrument inspired hoots of joys from the audience. Buckingham launched into another Mac song, "Come," and quickly demonstrated why he's considered to be one of the best guitarists on the planet. The song's solo was an angry, screaming, blisteringly beautiful eruption that had the crowd on its feet for a standing ovation before the song was over. Further highlights throughout Buckingham's all to brief set included a slowed down folky version of his solo hit "Go Insane," and a gorgeous take on a pair of Mac songs, "Never Going Back Again," and "Big Love." "Never Going Back Again" found the artist beautifully recreating his intricate guitar chords first heard on "Rumours." Prior to performing "Big Love," a hit from Mac's 1987 album "Tango in the Night," Buckingham told the audience that the song's lyrics are often misinterpreted. He went on to explain that at the time he wrote the song he was weary of romance, and so he was in effect "looking out for love," as in trying to avoid it. The acoustic performance, during which Buckingham employed loop pedals to layer his guitar riffs, was raw and intense.
The electric guitar came back out for a couple of more Mac songs, including "I'm So Afraid" and "Go Your Own Way." On both songs Buckingham went a little crazy, literally punching and beating the instrument like it owed him money. It was spectacular to watch. For the encore Buckingham returned to the stage with an acoustic guitar to perform "Trouble" and the title track to his latest solo album "Seeds We Sow." Up until that point I'd been pretty proud of the audience for keeping quiet while Buckingham performed. It was the total opposite of the rudeness I experienced a couple of weeks ago at the Jackson Browne concert. But inevitably there had to be one guy in the crowd who had to ruin the streak. As Buckingham started telling a story prior to "Trouble," an audience member a few rows back from the front stood up and started gushing to the artist about how much he loved him. "I love that shit," exclaimed the fan, causing Buckingham to raise his eyebrows in a way that said "Really?" After a moment the musician smiled and replied, "Well put, sir! So do I!" As Buckingham announced that Fleetwood Mac would indeed be touring next year, another audience member shouted out that he liked Buckingham's solo band. Buckingham smiled, shook his head, and said, "You guys are special." That got a huge laugh from the crowd. A moment after he said it, Buckingham seemed to realize the double meaning of the statement and attempted to explain that the statement was sincere.
It was great to finally see someone who had been pretty instrumental in my musical upbringing. Even at 62 years of age, and with really nothing left to prove, Buckingham remains a passionate and energetic performer. He's also incredibly gracious, stopping after each song to take a bow and drink in the crowd's applause in a way that lets one know he truly appreciates it. When Fleetwood Mac tours next year, I'll drive any distance to see them live. For now though, Saturday night's show was a great experience.  

 

Too Much Pork For Just One Fork

Ask twelve Southerners what rock band best encapsulates the definition of Southern rock, and you're likely to get a dozen different answers. The Allman Brothers Band, Lynyrd Skynyrd, The Marshall Tucker Band, Drivin 'N' Cryin', ZZ Top, Molly Hatchet, and Blackfoot are just some of the bands that immediately come to my mind. I'd like to add another, possibly lesser-known band to the discussion. The first time I heard the music of Southern Culture on the Skids, or SCOTS as the band is affectionately known, was while working at 96 Wave. The station started playing "Voodoo Cadillac," the first single off the North Carolina band's 1995 album "Dirt Track Date." The fuzzy guitar, reminiscent of Creedence Clearwater Revival (a band that sounded Southern, but which was actually from California), hooked me immediately. "Dirt Track Date," which features great songs such as "Soul City," 8-Piece Box," "Camel Walk," "Nitty Gritty," and "Whole Lotta Things," remains my favorite SCOTS album (you never forget your first), but they have an extensive catalog that goes in and out of print, depending on the label.

The band will celebrate its 30th anniversary next year, and although they may not be as huge as Skynyrd or the Allmans, they are loved across the South and beyond, largely thanks to the band's incredibly fun live shows. Guitarist and singer Rick Miller, bassist and singer Mary Huff, and drummer Dave Hartman make white trash fashion and Southern twang an art form. The band describes their sound on their website as "toe sucking geek rock - kinda weird, but it feels good while you're doing it." Last Saturday night at The Pour House the band played two rollicking sets of its signature sound to a packed house. I hadn't seen them in a few years, so I was ready for my SCOTS fix. Miller and Huff traded of singing duties on songs such as "Voodoo Cadillac," "My Baby's Got the Strangest Ways," "Liquored Up and Laquered Down," "Dance For Me," and "My House Has Wheels," while Hartman stood at his drum kit and kept time. Joining SCOTS onstage Saturday night was a fairly large fellow who came armed with maracas and a tambourine. He spent the entire show shaking said instruments (and most of his body) while peering heavenward with a look of pure nirvana on his face. I never was able to figure out who he was. There was also a member of the audience, an attractive woman clad in a bustier, who was invited onstage several times by Huff to dance. It was great seeing the band again, and it's also great to see that even after nearly thirty years of doing their own thing, the members of SCOTS are still up for an evening of fun. They visit Charleston fairly frequently, so check them out the next time they're in town if you've never had the pleasure. I suggest a dinner beforehand of fried chicken, snack crackers, and of course, banana pudding'.