After seeing The
Lords of Dogtownlast week
I’ve decided to grow my hair… and stop combing it. With everyone sporting
high-‘n’-tights these days and even dippin’ digits into the greasy kid’s stuff,
long, unruly hair may actually be returning to the counterculture middle finger
it once was when kids dug The Sweet, the Nuge, and The Stooges all at the same
time.
What
struck me about the movie and its preceding documentary, Dogtown and Z Boys,was
how this urban guerilla movement almost didn’t happen. Somehow it did and
spawned attention in the magazines that first hipped me to punk. Without this
subversive surfer innovation and desire I might have wound up a Frampton fan.
Whew.
Thursday, July 7,
So-Cal’s Groovy Ghoulies blew back
into the Bug Jar along with Chixdiggit!,
The Teenage Harlots (starring
ex-Priests bassist Father Blood), and The
Teenage Bottle Rockets as part of their Teenage Kicks Tour. I arrived in
time to catch the tail end of the Chixdiggit! set. These guys have been around
forever but still look like elementary school extras from the set of The Wonder Years. The Ghoulies use the
same three chords — forwards, backwards, inside out — and somehow keep the
tunes from blurring. Minimal guitar breaks and that fantabulous 4/4 beat, baby.
Dirty rap legend Blowfly’s profanity preceded him and I
expected a raw and raunchy show perhaps with tracks and keyboard (like an
X-rated Wesley Willis) the following Tuesday at the Bug Jar. What I didn’t
expect was probably one of the best funk bands I have ever seen live. The predominantly
white, funkified quartet laid down a deep, deep shag for Blowfly to wiggle his
toes in. The thing is, clean lyrics would have never flown with funk this
whiplash, solid, and filthy.
Los Straitjackets put on an amazing show with MC Kaiser
George and The World Famous Pontani
Sisters the next night at Milestones. Their Summer Twist Party show was
tons a fun with all its twistin’, twangin’, bumpin’, and grindin’. Soundman MDG
had the sound pumpin’. Surf isn’t always the most visual music to catch live
what with its limited choreography, but these Nashville cats (with Rochester
homeboy Jay Smay masked and on drums) are like a comic book come to life… with
dancing girls.
The same night Danielia Cotton rocked The Montage
Grille. This gal rocks rootsy and solid. I can’t get enough of her voice. Her
pride and genuine shyness was endearing and meshed well with the storytelling
within her songs. Rumor has it she’s coming back in September. Don’t miss it.
MusicFest’s lineup
was the best it’s been in its 11-year history — despite kinda overlooking the
old school a little and the late-afternoon monsoons that closed down each day.
Walking through the crowd it seemed like Mayor Johnson’s dream for this fest
has finally come true. I was particularly jazzed by two little girls in the
front row for the amazing John Legend.
They were arguing over the image on my buddy’s T-shirt. One thought it was
Coltrane the other was sure it was Charlie Parker. Whaddya know? Two
13-year-olds who have heard of both Trane and Bird. We’re gonna be alright.
Little Charlie and The Nightcats swung mightily for the Monday-night crowd at the Montage.
The band was dressed keen and Little Charlie blazed as slick frontman Rick
Estrin jived and spewed a bucket of one-liners between vicious railroad honks
on the harp.
Still more blues last
Thursday the 21st with Duke Robillard playing the blues with a little jump and swing in George Eastman’s backyard.
Robillard strapped on a Strat and copped a squat to play with a classic T-Bone
shuffle that might as well be his at this point.
The
tent that was set up for the rain that never came kinda obscured the band and
muffled the sound slightly, but the vibe was cool with folks dancing all over
the patio and more sprawled out in the sunshine on the lush green. It was a
Kodak moment.
This article appears in Jul 27 – Aug 2, 2005.
