|Lonebird - KMRE Benefit - source|
KMRE Benefit Show: Lonebird, It's Just Zach! (Zach Zinn) Lumpkins at the American Museum of Radio and Electricity (aka SPARK: The Museum of Electrical Invention).
Thursday, September 29, 2011
You walk into the performance space adjacent to the AMRE and are immediately struck by qualities of size and oddness. Tall brick walls extending up to two-story ceilings, hardwood floors, strange radio coil devices. Artifacts of the radio age. Tall Tesla Coil towers stacked behind the amps. Wood and glass cases filled with what seems to be fragments from the Bride of Frankenstein set. Sparse crowd milling around in the shadows. A hard light on the stage.
|Lumpkins - source|
Lumpkins start the evening off with a twanging country bang. Echoes of Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys in the big space. The brick wall seems to be permeated by the enticing fragrances of Bayou on Bay. Music with blackened fish, garlic, butter. Singing “Polyanne Goddamn”: a rousing old 97s style roustabout that gets many up on the floor to dance and shake to boards. The last of summer right outside the door. David Ney kicks into “Sliding Down the Staircase Until I Hit the Ground” which brings the Flying Burrito Brothers to mind. Feet are stomping the floor. After a few songs, the band tightens up, Ney’s voice dropping slightly down the register into a more somber country twang, Kevin Lee in sweet harmony, Tyler Clark’s guitar sounding almost slide steel. “Hello, Mr. Death” is particularly good, spaghetti western twang death country music. Olson and Harmonson lay down the bottom line like railroad tracks. The malleability of Ney’s voice is exceptional as he moves from Hank Willams wail to a Ricky Nelson phrasing on “Another Wasted Day. ” Very nice.
|Zach Zinn - KMRE Benefit|
Next up is Zach Zinn in one of his many band iterations called, It's just Zach! (A tribute to Brent Cole, he says.). In the spirit of the benefit, Zinn talks about listening the KMRE outside the ‘Shoe late at night, the drunks and homeless singing along to the tunes, passed out and dreaming the old radio songs. He is alone onstage with a guitar and a series of effects, kicks off his set with ambient loops, falling over the crowd like a warm blanket of sound. Melodic fragments thrown out like broken bones into a fire. Then, a sort of wrenching upon the music. Effect of tools working on the sound. Ratcheting motifs. Layered musical textures sliding across time like slow saws. Soundtrack to either an apocalyptic film or the unraveling of a brilliant mind. Songs end with Zach bending down to twist knobs and work effects like an ancient conductor fine-tuning a demonic train set. Music for life in slow motion. That and then thunderous up swells in volume, big waves of sound forming from the smallest stones. Tidal. Tsunami music. Falling into difficult silences. It is beautiful and strange. Music with a broken back, spine removed, twisted slow rhythms twisted again and broken down into miniature sonic storms, the butterfly singing inside the hurricane. Zach in the end bent over turning knobs like Blake's painting of Newton circumscribing the nature of oceans floor.
|Lonebird - KMRE Benefit|
Lonebird (Andy Piper of Sugar, Sugar, Sugar) is up next. Tambourine on his head. Features lost in the shadows of a cap. Mumbling into the mic. Starting off with slack-string feedback. Reverberated notes stung out on a hard rhythm. Channeling Keith Richards through a feedback drenched soundscape. Playing an acoustic guitar like distant thunder. Earthquake downstrokes. Working towards a groove like a surgeon cutting down to find a bullet in the bone. Fragmentary songs, deliberately half constructed, offered up like fallen bird's nests refashioned into plaintive evocations of melody. Blues hollers, field music, cave music, melodies from the grave. Chordings that cut like knives in a black and white 50s exploitation film. Not songs as much as dada haiku. Surreal vocalizations from some lost genre of music, mix rockabilly, hiccup songstering, with juke joint foot stomping get up off your ass and move music. Feel the floorboards shaking ominously. Sound that seems bigger than a single player. Abrupt stops that upset cliched expectation of how it all should end. I keep thinking about the R. L. Burnside work with the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion. Distorted rhythms working the a sparse unintelligible singing that is more about what you think you hear than words actually said. The quick end always. An Elvis styled, “thank you” and then then a Stones-like intro into the next piece. Saying something about “a good time lady and a hard time girl.” Asked what that means, says, “Think about it.” Then a rough big sound, Charlie Feathers nightmare in falsetto, radio from an alternate earth, punching downstrokes with the piercing leads. Molten notes coming up from a volcano of amplified heat. Then, seemingly spun out of the shadows under the stage emerges a shape of soft white light, Lupe Flores perfoming a vintage style strip-tease feather dance. Dancing to the music with juke-joint shimmies and spins, feathers never revealing, covering her like fire. Picture those paintings of Aztec princesses on the edge of a volcano with a warrior playing a Sun God Calendar guitar. White fire feathers of the serpent Quetzalcoatl god. Primal beats pulsing out of the ocean, the mountains, the skies. A train made of bones rolling down the track. Lupe is laughing. Lonebird is singing. This is what music is all about. Words just die here. Rise up out of the fire.
So good that the firing up of the Tesla Coils after was merely a shallow coda.
I have no worries for the future of AMRE if they keep holding benefits with this caliber of music.
|Lumpkins - KMRE Benefit|